


99 Perspectives on a Single Love Story

by spaceorphan



Category: Glee
Genre: And all that jazz, Angst, Drama, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:55:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 25,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26378392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spaceorphan/pseuds/spaceorphan
Summary: The Story of Kurt and Blaine told through the eyes of everyone else but them.  Each chapter is a different perspective in the ongoing tale of their love story.
Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel
Comments: 406
Kudos: 206





	1. Jacob Ben Israel (Audition)

**Author's Note:**

> I started something like this a while back - and now I'm taking the idea and really running with it. Each chapter is a ficlet of a different character at a different point in Kurt and Blaine's life - documenting their love story. This starts in Audition, and each chapter will be paired with a different episode until reaching Dreams Come True. Have fun! :)

Jacob Ben Israel, if nothing else, is a journalist. He realizes that some people think he’s a joke - a nerd - a weird kid with an afro that no one takes seriously. But his passion is for the news. Or...well, maybe at least gossip. The people have a right to know what is going on at this school, especially with the glee club. 

He shivers at the thought. Oh, what he wouldn’t do for a mere whiff of Rachel Berry’s panties. But no time for that now. He sees Kurt Hummel strolling down the hallway, nose high, as if he’s better than everyone at this school. Personally, he thinks that Kurt is a worse loser than he is - his dumpster diving count is much higher and, well, at least  _ he  _ is into girls. 

Still… the people do seem to be obsessed with sexuality. And sex sells -- or at least that’s what he’s learned from every television so he’s ever obsessed over. 

And that video of Kurt getting slushied is by far the highest rated thing on his YouTube Channel. 

He motions for his camera guy (his good friend Keith who thankfully says nothing of his exploits and willingly does the camerawork for a mere free lunch everyday) to follow him. He’s got his microphone ready, time to go in for the kill. 

“Kurt Hummel!” Jacob screeches. Kurt obviously pretends that he doesn’t hear someone shouting his head off, and instead continues down the hall as if he’s too good to be bothered. “Kurt Hummel - you have to give us the best scoop.” 

“Go away,” Kurt says, not looking back. 

“You have a right to inform the people.” 

“I have a right to report you to the principal for invasion of privacy, Jacob,” Kurt says, spinning on his heel with a scowl. “Get the camera out of my face.” 

“What do you say to the people who think you’re in love with Finn Hudson?” Jacob asks, secretly amused at the way Kurt’s face contorts with distaste. 

“No comment.” 

“What do you say about the rumor that you’re secretly getting your jollies off at a bathhouse in that abandoned mall in South Lima.” 

Kurt’s face, again, delightfully turns sour. “Why - is that where you go?” 

“Ooh, a zinger,” Jacob says, unimpressed. “How do you respond to the recent wagers on whether or not you will secure an actual boyfriend this year?” 

Kurt freezes on the spot. The usually verbose Kurt Hummel seems to be at a loss for words. 

“You do want a boyfriend, right?” Jacob eggs on. 

“My life's worth is not determined by whether or not I have a significant other,” Kurt snaps. “So, maybe you and your journalistic integrity can find a new hobby.” 

Jacob doesn’t even care about Kurt’s discomfort. This is all going to be great TV. “Yes, but isn’t point of being gay to see how much penis you can score?” 

“Do you really think that’s what being gay is all about?” Kurt says, as he looks carefully around. A few jocks walk by, eyeing them both with suspicion. 

“Well yeah,” Jacob says. “That and a lot of glitter and guyliner, right?” 

Kurt scoffs at him as he turns away. “Fuck off, Jacob.” 

Jacob turns to the camera, delighted. “You’ve heard it here first, McKinley High, and take your bets. Will lowly teen gay Kurt Hummel be destined to be labeled and ridiculed a loser? Or will he turn us all gay with his wily ways. Keep tuning in, this Jacob Ben Israel out.” 

Jacob laughs to himself, thinking that he could edit this into something much more interesting than the conversation he just had. However, a group of Cheerios walk by, completely distracting him. 

“C’mon, Keith - let’s go ask Quinn Fabray how she feels now that Santana Lopez’s boobs are bigger…” 


	2. Principal Figgins (Britney/Brittany)

“What am I supposed to do, Abigail? These young kids are swallowing TidePods and filming it to put on MySpace. It’s an epidemic! Oh, someone is here, remind me later to get that new recipe for Pumpkin Spice pancakes from you, okay? It is so yummy. Okay. Bye.” 

Principal Figgins hangs up his desk phone as one Kurt Hummel enters his office. At this point, he is used to the parade of glee club kids coming and going. If only that young and free spirited Will Schuester would put a rein on the kids. They are constantly out of control with their teen pregnancies and love triangle shenanigans. But Principal Figgins is used to holding conference with the petulant Noah Puckerman or the fiery Santana Lopez. Kurt Hummel is not one to grace his office. 

“What can I do for you, Mr. Hummel?” Principal Figgins asks. “Do you have a concern? Or will you provide me with yet another titaliating beauty tip?” 

“Mr. Schuester sent me here,” Kurt Hummel says. He stands rigidly straight, his head held high. The non-verbal refusals to sit in one of the chairs makes Principal Figgings a little uneasy. “Apparently, it is frowned upon to speak one’s voice in class.” 

“That can’t be right,” Principal Figgins exclaims. “Will Schuester is the epitome of speaking one’s mind. Once he told me too much about his wife’s, excuse me ex-wife’s yeast infection. I could not eat bread for a month.” 

Kurt Hummel grumbles, and hands Principal Figgins a handwritten note from Will Schuester explaining the situation. Kurt Hummel had, apparently, yelled at Will Schuester for not agreeing to do music from the selection of the scandalous Britney Spears. Principal Figgins frowns. 

“Well, now, I have to say this is a surprising turn of events,” Principal Figgins says. “I understand that the sultry and sensational sounds of Britney Spears makes one become overt in their expressions, but we need to remain calm at all times.” 

Kurt Hummel clenches his jaw, clearly holding back whatever quip that is on the tip of his tongue. “I just want to be able to express myself,” he says. “Why is that so difficult for people to understand?”

Principal Figgins lets out a tired sigh. “I sympathize with your plight, Mr. Hummel. But we cannot let the students do whatever they like. This is a school. It would be anarchy.” 

“Fine,” Kurt Hummel says, throwing his hands in the air. “Suspend me or whatever.” 

“I am not going to suspend you,” Principal Figgins says.“I was young once, too. I remember when I was a part of Beatles-mania and I needed to have my hair done like Ringo Starr. However, you will need to rein it in or you will be facing expulsion. Do I make myself clear?” 

Kurt Hummel shakes his head slowly. Principal Figgins had been expecting more of a fight, but indifference is often more troubling. 

“Fine,” Kurt Hummel says again, spinning on his heel. “I won’t subjugate you or anyone else at this school with my own wants or needs.” 

He is out the door again before Principal Figgins has a chance to react. Principal Figgins leans back in his chair. Ah, the ups and downs in the ever tumultuous and spicy life of a high school administrator.


	3. Emma Pillsbury (Grilled Cheesus)

Emma isn’t sure what to do with her hands. Does she keep them in her lap? Does she reach out and try to clasp his in her own? Does she just sit on them? She doesn’t know. It feels almost like one of her panic attacks - when she feels out of control and needs to make everything in her life perfect so she can regain some control over the chaos. Only… her conduit is not her own brain, but the teenager sitting in the chair next to her. 

Kurt Hummel is staring across the room, eyes fixated on a point across the vast, bright emptiness of the hospital waiting room. Only, he isn’t looking at one thing in particular. He’s thinking. She can see that about him, the way his eyes are shifting ever so slightly, the way he doesn’t seem quite connected to the rest of the real world. The wheels of his brain are turning so quickly. But about what? 

About control, she guesses. She recognizes the look - as his eyes glaze over - lost very deep thought about what could only be -- control. They don’t have any answers yet, nothing concrete to stabilize the fears, no facts to make a plan, and in those instances the panic always rises. 

She isn’t sure what she should do - or say. Will went to get coffee twenty minutes ago. Emma wishes he were here -- he’s better at the abstract. Sure, she can talk to Artie Abrams about college choices, and help Rachel Berry through her questionable choices in love, but discussing life and death with a student who has barely been to your office his entire high school career…? She isn’t sure how best to comfort him. She’s not even good at comforting herself. 

“Is there anyone we can call?” she asks, breaking the silence. Her small voice sounds loud in the open and quiet room. “Your grandparents?”

Kurt turns his head slowly, as if being ripped out of his thoughts has made his reaction time slow. “They’re in a nursing home an hour from here,” he responds, almost dismissively. “I’ve looked over them more than they’ve looked over me.” 

“What about your mom’s family?” she tries again. 

A pained look forms on his face. “They live in Michigan.” 

“Do you have any aunts or uncles…” 

“We took care of each other,” he says sharply - as if that’s the end of that discussion. 

Emma frowns. She feels fidgety. She notices a stack of magazines on an end table askew, and thinks she should straighten them. It would make her feel better. She reaches out to set them in a nice little pile. 

Kurt returns to his deep thoughts. 

“What about Mrs. Hudson?” Emma tries again. “Finn’s mom. I know she cares about you and your dad. Or maybe Mercedes Jones and her mom? Or even Rachel Berry and her dads would…” 

“Stop trying to make this alright,” Kurt snaps. 

He is angry, so angry now, and Emma’s heart just breaks for him. 

“Kurt…”

“Don’t make promises you can’t deliver on. God,” he throws his head back and closes his eyes as if to hold it all in. “I’m so fucking tired of it.” 

“No,” she says, the sharpness in her voice startling him. She reaches for his hand and grabs hold of it. He tries to pull away, but she only holds on tighter. “Kurt, I know you think you are alone in this - that you have to carry this on your own. And I recognize that you feel like you’re spinning out of control right now because this is a real situation with no sugar coated answers. But you are not alone. There are people who care about you who won’t let that happen. I will not let that happen.” 

Kurt stares at her hard for a long moment, before his face begins to crumple and his resolve finally breaks. He doesn’t say anything as the tears begin to trickle down his face. She finally knows what to do with her hands, as she squeezes his hand tighter.


	4. Howard Bamboo (Duets)

Howard Bamboo has been working the cashier line for the past five hours now. He has only gotten one fifteen minute break. His feet hurt. Krystl in line three gets a stool. He would like a stool. But he does not ask. Terri might yell at him. 

Two teenagers enter his line. One is a boy with a very unusual slanted cap on his head. The other is a black girl who smiles at him. Howard smiles at her. She looks nice. He is unsure about the other one. 

They talk with each other as they set down one of Sheets’N’Things ZeroSun Nineteen-inch Premier Window Dressings (in black) retail price nineteen dollars and ninety-nine cents. 

“Are you sure you want to do this? I thought you were doing a duet with Sam?” the girl says. 

“Well, that has effectively been dissolved,” the boy says. 

The girl laughs. “Did you figure out that he wasn’t gay, like I said, and ditched his pale ass?” 

“Mercedes!” The boy hisses. “No, I just figured my best chance if I do the song with myself.” 

“You’re missing the point of ‘duet’,” the girl teases. 

Howard scans the product. He shifts from one foot to another. The teenagers don’t notice his distress. 

“Why are you buying this here and not at one of the fabric stores, anyway?” the girl asks. “Because the prices here are cheaper than most thrift stores, and I’m on a budget,” the boy says. “And homemade costumes can be made out of anything. Even tacky materials bought from places that really should be burned to the ground.” The boy looks around as if the store had a foul smell. 

“Please don’t burn my place of employment down,” Howard says. He likes his job. They pay him nicely. He would be homeless without his job. 

“Oh, no one is really burning anything down,” the girl assures him. She seems nice. 

Howard struggles putting the product in the bag. He is unsure why the company does not bound it in pre-packaging like the bedspreads. 

“Anyway…” the boy says. “I’ll admit, I thought it was a bit far fetched to do a duet with yourself -- but when I figured out what song I was doing, it all just clicked. Think about it - embodying both the masculine and feminine while singing the Julie Andrews’s seminal classic Le Jazz Hot from Victor/Victoria. It’s genius.” 

Howard looks up. He has seen that movie before. It is a nice movie. “Did you say you were singing Le Jizz Hat? I enjoy that song.” 

The teenagers look at him confused. “Did you just say _ Le Jizz Hat _ ?” the boy asks. He seems horrified. 

The girl giggles. 

Howard is confused. Did he say something wrong? Terri says he is always saying things wrong. Oh well. 

“Will you be saving five percent today with Sheets’N’Things Super Savers Membership Account?” Howard asks. 

“No, thank you.” 

“Would you like to sign up for Sheets’N’Things Super Savers Membership Account? It is thirty dollars every six months.” 

“No. Thank you.” 

“Would you like to sign up for Sheets’N’Things Junior Super Savers Membership Account? It is twenty-five dollars for every eight months.” 

“You know what, why don’t I just give you cash, and you can keep the change,” the boy says. He sounds like he is in a hurry. Many of his customers seem like they are in a hurry. The boy hands him a twenty dollar bill and a five dollar bill. Howard finishes the transaction and gives the boy the receipt. 

“Thank you for shopping at Sheets’N’Things,” Howard says. He tries to hand them back the change but they have already picked up their bag and are leaving. 

Howard puts his four dollars and twenty-four cents tip on the register. It feels nice to have an extra four dollars and twenty-four cents. He is unsure what to do with it. He should tell Terri that he has it. But she might take it from him. He is unsure of what decision to make. 

He looks at the clock. Only three more hours of his shift to go. 


	5. Carl Howell (The Rocky Horror Glee Show)

Carl Howell stands just off stage, his arms firmly crossed across his chest, aghast at what he is seeing playing out on the stage. Will Schuester is stripped down to a pair of questionably tight gold shorts, going over a scene with the rest of the kids. He had been uncomfortably close to the short, loud girl playing Janet, but now he’s brought up Emma - his Emma - to help explain the scene. 

This is supposed to be a school play -- done by the students for the community. From this angle, it looks like it should be the beginning of an insane sex romp featuring minors. It’s bad enough he caught the two cheerleaders making out just a few minutes ago. This play is getting out of control. 

When did he become the only adult driving this thing? And at what point should he step in? 

“Doesn’t any of this seem inappropriate?” he says, mostly to himself, but the strange kid playing Riff-Raff is standing next to him, playing with the ends of his white wig, watching the scene unfold. It might be the make-up, but there’s something a little creepy about the kid - almost zombie-like in appearance. 

He bounces on his toes as he nods his head - his eyes wide as Will grabs at Emma’s hips and begins to thrust in time to the music playing. 

“You know - this play is supposed to be about celebrating what makes us different,” Carl says, indignant. “And it feels like Will Schuester has ignored that completely so he can rub up on my girlfriend, which I suppose is better than the worse alternative of a student.” 

“Mr. Howell, if I may,” the kid playing Riff-Raff holds up one finger. “I blame the establishment.” 

“What?” Carl snaps his head towards the kid, confused. 

The kid takes a disgusted look around. “This whole place is haunted by the inferior souls doomed to walk its halls, only to graduate with the highest ambitions of getting their own cubicle in whatever middle-rate office they’ll undoubtedly land, saddled with the sad fact that they’ll be tied to an ungrateful spouse and three children. Even the best of them - Mr. Schuester for example - can’t seem to escape the chains McKinley high has placed on him.” 

What is wrong with these children? Carl wonders if he needs to talk to the principal about how weird Will Schuester’s glee kids are. “That is incredibly cynical. And not exactly what I’m talking about…” 

“You seem to be a functioning person,” the kid cuts him off. “And a decent dentist, Mr. Howell, even if half the class had weird Britney Spears dreams when they visited you.” 

“Thank you?” 

“I recommend getting as far away from here as you can.” There’s a seriousness to the kid’s tone, and a bit of sadness underneath the layers of caked on white make-up. “That’s what I plan to do - if I can.” 

The ominous sound of the kid’s voice made Carl very uneasy. Carl used to be a man who wanted a family, lots of little kids running around. After this whole experience, he’s not so sure. 

He starts to say something but out of the corner of his eye catches Will embracing Emma that is way over the boundaries they all agreed to. 

“You may want to do something,” the kid says, his face back to blank and deadpan. “Otherwise, Mr. Schuester will undoubtedly try some obscene gesture to win back Ms. Pillsbury.” 

“I hadn’t noticed,” Carl says, sarcastically. He’s had it and heads out on the stage. “Hey, hey, hey…. What’s going on here....”


	6. Blaine Anderson (Never Been Kissed)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2-for-1 Day! 
> 
> Blaine comes into the picture and gets a scene for himself! Yes - there will be a Kurt chapter, too, but you'll have to keep guessing when that will be. ;) Happy reading!

“What’s going on? Why are you so upset?”

“Because up until yesterday I had never been kissed. Or at least one that counted.”

Blaine joins Kurt on the steps. Kurt is clearly still upset, attempting to hold back tears, but not quite succeeding. Blaine tenderly rubs his back, wanting nothing more than to help his new friend feel better. 

Their planned confrontation with Dave Karofsky hadn’t gone well at all. Not that Blaine thought it would, after everything that Kurt had told him. If Blaine’s own experiences have taught him anything, it’s that everyone has to come deal with sexuality on their own terms, and with a meatheaded bully like Karofsky - well - that might take years of self-acceptance. 

The funny part is that it’s Karofsky who is the scared little boy, not Kurt. Kurt might not realize it, but Karofsky’s more scared of him, and the damage he could do with the truth, than anything Karofsky might be able to inflict on Kurt. Kurt has a strength about him that Blaine has only dreamed about - he’s never seen it in a kid their own age. It’s admirable. 

Still - who knows what Karofsky will do out of fear and retaliation. The important thing is that Kurt needs to be safe. And that is why Blaine came to help him, even if he knew going in it would be futile. Blaine can be Kurt’s knight in shining armor, provide protection, do whatever he can so not to see Kurt crumple up like he had during coffee the day they had met. Like he is starting to now. 

Blaine wants to see Kurt smile again - because that smile lights up the room, because that smile made Blaine feel warm again, because that smile means Kurt will be alright. 

For a split second, it crosses Blaine’s mind that he could make Kurt smile again - in a more impactful way. It would be so easy to lean in and brush his lips against Kurt’s; take away the awful memory of what had happened and replace it with a new and better one. For a moment, their eyes connect, and Blaine sees a world of possibility in the deep blue of Kurt’s eyes. They could have a fairy tale moment - that kiss that breaks the evil spell and lets them live happily ever after. Blaine could be Kurt’s prince in this story. 

But the thought leaves as quickly as it had come. Kurt doesn’t need a pity kiss - as much as Blaine would have had no problem offering it. Kurt deserves more than that. What Kurt deserves is a friend - someone to listen to him, to see him and really hear him. Someone to make him feel not so alone in the world. Someone with whom he can develop a real and lasting bond. 

Blaine wants to be that person -- a person who provides a wealth of connection and companionship -- not just a simple kiss. And maybe, just maybe, Blaine needs that kind of person in his life, too. 

Something in Blaine’s heart stirs. Kurt Hummel is special, more special than he maybe understands right then, but Blaine already knows that he feels lucky to have found him. 

Fairy tale kisses happen at the end of the story. This story has just begun. 


	7. Holly Holliday (The Substitute)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm including a bonus scene with this one! When I started the project the first time, this scene was for Mercedes -- this time, I wanted to officially save Mercedes for another episode - but decided to still include the original scene I had with her because why not :)

Another day, another successful class wrapped up and forgotten about. Life as a substitute teacher is thrilling as it is unstable, not that Holly minds either. Bringing a smile to the kids’ faces and then getting the hell out of there is what she lives for - that and a really good bottle of chardonnay. Nothing beats helping out these glee kids, though. She isn’t sure what kind of drab lesson plan Will Schuester keeps giving these kids, but in the past week, they’ve certainly come alive. It brightens her day. That is why she became a teacher in the first place, right? To help the kids? 

“Ms. Holliday, would you mind if I have a private word?” The boy who had asked her to sub for Mr. Schuester pulls her aside after glee officially ends. He’s sweet, but god if she can remember his name right now. Kirk? No, Kurt. It’s definitely one of the two. She won’t be around next week, so no need to figure it out . 

“Of course you can,” she says with a broad grin. “I would gladly like to help you out with whatever I can.” 

“I was wondering if…” he looks around, waiting for his classmates to leave the room. Oh, this must be juicy. He tries again, this time in a lower voice. “I was wondering if you knew how to tell when you’re out with a... a person whether it’s a date or not. See, I have this friend, and lately we’ve been going out to lunch a lot, and he pays of course, and we text all the time, and he asked me to go to the theater with him tomorrow. And I keep waffling on whether I should gussy up for my possible first date or should I play it cool, you know, cause he didn’t say this was a date and I’m totally misinterpreting things and I make a fool of myself or something. God, I would never recover." 

Holly puts her head on her hand, endeared. This kid is too sweet in his earnestness. Ah, to be young and not so jaded anymore. 

“Look, I’m going to be real honest with you about this - guys, they be kinda dumb sometimes,” she says, amused as his eyes go wide. “Just last week, I had a guy ask me to one of those superhero movies -- and don’t get me wrong, I love me some explosions and some dreamy Robert Downey Jr., but not the most romantic choice for a date, so I was pretty straightforward. Were we on a date? He said yes, I said yes, and then some explosions happened in the bedroom.”

The kid looks at her a little uneasy. Oops, probably shouldn’t have said that last part because he still is a minor. God, she just loves to talk too much and has too little a filter. 

“...Anyway,” she continues. “My point is, whether your style is all glammed up or casual and cool - be your authentic self. Make sure you’re both on the same page. Remember - consent is important no matter what type of relationship it is. And whatever it turns out to be, it is.” 

“Thank you so much, Ms. Holliday!” the kid says excitedly. “I have to go raid my wardrobe, who am I kidding, friend or something more, it’s always worth it to dress to impress.” He smiles giddily. 

“Best of luck with your date, Kirk!” she says as he scurries away. 

Ah, another job well done. Now, to see that girl about the tater tots… 

***

BONUS : Mercedes Jones

Things are changing, that much she understands. He had been so withdrawn when school had started, and even more so after his father’s heart attack. Mercedes has done all she can to reach out to her friend, to help him through what he’s going through. But there is only so much she could do, and she recognizes that. 

However, in the past week, something has definitely shifted. Kurt seems… brighter than usual? She has never seen Kurt this giddy, and that includes the time they stumbled upon a garage sale where Kurt had found an authentic replica of a pair of gloves Audrey Hepburn had worn in Breakfast at Tiffany’s. 

“Hey, Kurt, how was your weekend?” Mercedes asks Monday morning as they slide into their homeroom desks. She had been a little bummed that Kurt had to bail on bowling to see a show with his new friend, Blaine, but she had ended up going to the mall with Tina, and scored some great new shoes that she couldn’t wait to show Kurt. Unfortunately, Kurt is busy texting away, and hadn’t even noticed her sit down. 

“Kurt?”

Kurt’s fingers are flying.

“Kurt!”

He jumps in his seat, startled.

“Oh, hey Mercedes,” he says.

“Do I even need to ask who you’re texting?”

A guilty look crosses Kurt’s face. “Um, sorry, Blaine was just texting me that he had just read that the latest bachelorette just split with her beau. Which, of course she did. That’s what she gets for not choosing the guy she let go in week seven. Blaine totally agrees.”

“So, am I ever going to meet him?” Mercedes asks.

“Who, the guy from the Bachelorette?”

“No, silly, Blaine,” Mercedes says. As irritating as it had been over the last week to listen to Kurt go on and on about Blaine, she has to admit her curiosity has been stirred. “Maybe we should all hang out. You’ve jibber-jabbered about him non-stop all week. I think I’ve earned the right to check this guy out for you.”

Kurt scrunches his nose. “Really, Mercedes?”

“Of course! I mean, he’s obviously important to you if you’ve already got him gossiping about The Bachelorette.”

His cheeks begin to blush a deep shade of red. “Well, okay. Maybe we can try getting together at Breadstix. Blaine has never been there. He swears that this little family owned Italian restaurant near his house has the best chicken Alfredo on the planet, but I doubt they have Breadstix’s breadsticks. Why don’t we go tomorrow night? I’ll text him right now.”

Kurt bends over his phone, ready to text again when the screen lights up. He bursts out laughing, wiggling in his seat. Mercedes raises an eyebrow at him. “Blaine just texted ‘I want it deep purple,’ which is…” he can barely finish he is laughing so hard. “It’s something we overheard this guy say when we went to Rent on Friday. We think he was one of the understudies or a disgruntled second director or something. And he said the funniest thing. Blaine does the funniest impression of it and….it’s kind of an inside joke. But I’ll get Blaine to do the impression for you when you meet him.”

Great, I get to be the third wheel. Mercedes sinks a little lower in her chair. Things are definitely changing indeed.


	8. Finn Hudson (Furt)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a little long since it was originally written a long, long time ago. Most of them will remain about half this length.

It’s Friday night, after the football game. It hadn’t gone well. Coach Beiste had spent a good twenty minutes lecturing them on teamwork and all that crap. They had known. It’s not like they hadn’t had a good streak before that night. He’s tired and hungry and desperately needs a shower. 

He also knows Rachel is waiting for a phone call. Not that she hadn’t been at the game - she had - but Rachel demands more energy from him than the rest of his life put together. He’s not sure he has the energy tonight, but Rachel’s texts keep flying in. 

**Rachel** : Make sure when you get home you talk to Kurt!!

**Rachel** : I’m Worried that he didn’t come to the game today.

**Rachel** : It’s probably because of Karofsky and those other jerks. 

**Rachel** : They’re being awful, Finn. You need to step in. 

**Rachel** : Finn, have you talked to Kurt yet??? 

**Rachel** : Have you???

**Rachel** : Are you ignoring me again?? 

He leaves his football equipment by the foot of the stairs, and throws his phone on the end table. Rachel’s texts still light up the screen, and she’ll probably be pissed that he isn’t responding, but he isn’t entirely sure what she wants him to do. Kurt’s fine - or at least he’s seemed fine since he’s been to Dalton. Besides, he’s too tired to think about other people’s problems. All he wants to do is grab a Mountain Dew and crash. 

Kurt is at the table when Finn walks into the kitchen - the table full of designs, notes, and planners for their parents’ wedding. Finn’s not surprised, Kurt has taken his job as wedding planner pretty seriously. There are details Finn’s never even heard of that Kurt seems to have covered. Kurt had once tried to explain the Fung Schway or whatever to him, but it all sounds like a bunch of nonsense in his head. 

Kurt, however, isn’t alone. His new friend from Dalton - Blaine - is with him, chatting with Kurt about the designs. It’s almost like listening to a foriegn language. Honestly, Finn’s gotten used to seeing Blaine around. He’s been over at least twice a week since Kurt met him. (And always wearing that blazer. Doesn’t he ever get sick -- or too hot -- wearing that thing?) Finn doesn’t know what Blaine’s home life is like, or if he’s just interested in Kurt (are they dating? Finn can’t keep it all straight) but Blaine stays until Burt literally has to kick him out - Kurt complaining about it the whole time. 

Sometimes Finn wishes Rachel would stay that late, but Rachel has her beauty routine she has to do before bed, and therefore is always out the door promptly at 9:45pm, even if they’re in the middle of making out. 

“Finn! How was the game?” Kurt asks, not bothering to look up. Finn doubts Kurt cares about the football game - he rarely ever asks. 

“Azimio fumbled. They scored a touchdown and we never really got the lead back,” Finn says with a grumble as he opens the fridge. “Beiste bitched us out forever after the game.” Oohh, Burt had left the makings of a sandwich. A sandwich sounds good, too. He pulls out the plate along with a bottle of Mountain Dew that is stashed in the back.

“Azimio is a clueless Neanderthal, who probably has his lackeys tying his shoes for him because he doesn’t know how to do it himself,” Kurt snarks.

Finn holds back a groan. He doesn’t want to get into it tonight with Kurt.

“Well, from what Kurt’s told me, it sounds like the guy would be better used as a tackle and not a wide receiver,” Blaine says, unexpectedly.

“You know something about football?” Finn asks.

“Yeah, footballs great!” Blaine says, with a higher level of enthusiasm than Finn thought would have from someone who went to a prep school. “Actually, I’m excited for next weekend because my dad and I are going to an Ohio State game. We don’t do much together, but we do that every year.”

“That’s totally cool man.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty fun.”

“Oh, so I guess that means you’re not coming to the wedding then, huh?” Finn asks. “I would have figured Kurt would have nagged you to be his date by now.”

“Finn!” Kurt snaps, not able to hide the coloring in his cheeks. 

So, Blaine isn’t his boyfriend? Finn’s so confused. 

“Um, no,” Blaine shakes his head politely, avoiding eye contact. “I mean, yes, Kurt asked, and it’s a nice gesture, but I wouldn’t want to impose on a family thing even if I could come.”

“I told you, it’s not an imposition.,” Kurt says, rolling his eyes as he begins to draw on one of the blank pads in front of him.

“So what kind of seats did you get?” Finn asks as he puts the finishing touches on the sandwich.

“They’re box,” Blaine shrugs off as if it weren’t a big deal.

“No way, man!

“Well, my dad’s boss lets him have a season ticket every now and then.”

“I’m totally jealous,” Finn says. “Did you hear they’re bringing Meyer in as starting quarterback?”

Blaine is quick to reply. “Which is ridiculous, I know. Johnson has the better arm.”

“Yeah, but Meyer has better aim and…”

Kurt’s gone quiet, which always makes Finn a little uneasy. He’s stopped drawing on his pad to watch Finn and Blaine’s conversation carefully, a troubled look on his face. Finn isn’t the most observant person in the world, but he recognizes that look. It’s the same look Kurt used to give when Finn and Burt would talk about normal guy things together. Rachel’s voice echoes in his head -- reminding him of how left out Kurt usually feels, and how he should make an effort to make him feel included. 

“So, what are you guys working on?” Finn asks as he pulls his chair up to the table, and sets his plate down, being careful enough not to set it on any of Kurt’s plans.

“Oh, Kurt’s a genius,” Blaine insists. A proud smile grows along Kurt’s lips. “He’s found a way to work in faux ostrich feathers into the centerpieces. Just take a look at these designs, they’re amazing.”

“Cool.” Finn says, trying to sound sincere. 

If you had asked him for an honest answer, Finn wouldn’t have known the difference between what is sketched on the pad and anything else. But before he could even comment again, Kurt is off, talking a mile a minute as he excitedly gives details about the wedding. Finn nods along, trying to keep up. He takes a quick glance at Blaine, thinking that maybe Blaine would be as lost as he is, but Blaine’s busy staring at Kurt, watching him fondly and smiling as if he had stumbled upon something amazing. 

How is he not Kurt’s boyfriend again? 

Finn takes his sandwich and his soda and quickly slips out of the kitchen as Kurt and Blaine enter their own little world again. Finn might not be in tune with Kurt’s world but Blaine clearly is, and while Finn remains somewhat confused, he’s happy about that. At least he’ll have something positive to report back to Rachel. 


	9. Jeff Warbler (Special Education)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided Nick and Jeff are the Brittany and Santana of the Warblers

Being a Warbler is a family tradition. Jeff’s father had been a Warbler. Jeff’s grandfather had been a Warbler. All of Jeff’s brothers had been Warblers. And the one thing they all have in common, besides being a Warbler of course, is that they could all sing. His entire family is blessed with good singing abilities. Except him. Admittedly, his voice is awful. He knows that. He’s made his peace with that. He knows he’s much better suited for doo-whopping in the background, and is comfortable doing so. If only his family wouldn’t put so much pressure on him to get a solo. Still - he’ll continue to try even if he struggles more than anyone else. 

“I have bad news,” his best friend Nick grabs him by the collar and drags him down the hallway to somewhere quiet. Nick rarely looks concerned - this can’t be good. 

“What happened?” Jeff asks. “Trent ate the cafeteria beans again? No, Wes broke his leg. No - the ghost of Dalton hall emerged. Oh my god, another Warbler died.” 

“What, no - no one is dead. What is wrong with you?” Nick shakes his head. “No one has ever seen the Ghost of Dalton Hall, that’s just a legend used to scare freshmen. No, this is worse than that. The new kid is trying out for the solo.” 

“There’s a six month trial period before a Warbler can try out for a solo,” Jeff says, growing indignant. “It’s in the rule book.” And my god, does he have that rule book memorized. 

“Oh, I know,” Nick says, just as annoyed. “Apparently, it’s just a rule for all of us non-privileged people.” 

“Why would Wes and David do that? They know the rules better than anyone and--” It takes a full moment for Jeff to work it out, but as Nick nods along, he gets it. His blood runs a little cold. “Blaine got him an audition, didn’t he?” 

“Yes.”

“Damn.” 

“And apparently -- he can actually sing.”

“Really, damn.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if they were already sleeping together,” Nick says, a bit of venom in his voice. Unlike Jeff, Nick can actually sing, and he’s been trying for ages to get a solo. He also used to be one of Blaine’s favorite back up singers. Until… Kurt. “And that’s why Wes and David are bending the rules.” Nick holds one finger up, as if to emphasize the point. 

Jeff looks around the hall, not that there is anyone there to notice them talking, still he lowers his voice. “Do you--do you think they are?”

“Have you seen how Blaine looks at him?” Nick accuses, his voice loud enough to echo around the room. Some teachers walking by give them strange looks. 

Jeff thinks it over. Blaine is always touching the new kid’s shoulders, and ushering him into rooms with the back of his hands. And Blaine is gay, and this new kid is obviously gay. But that doesn’t mean… “Hmmm, good point.”

“I’ll bet you twenty bucks they get caught by the end of the semester.” Nick crosses his hands over his chest.

“You’re on.”

Nick frowns. “That still doesn’t help with the solo situation, though.”

“Oh, right,” Jeff says with a groan. “What should we do?”

“Well, I’m going to try hard, and hope that personal biases don’t get in the way of actual good judgment. You on the other hand…” Nick shrugs his shoulders. “I think you have a better shot at being a NBA star. Sorry man.”

Jeff lets out a sigh because Nick is right. Well, he may not get the solo - but at least he has an excuse to tell his family -- the star of Warblers is boinking the new kid. He wonders how well that’ll go over. 


	10. Nick Warbler (A Very Glee Christmas)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I managed to forget that A Very Glee Christmas comes before Silly Love Songs. Whoops. It’s just one joke - hopefully y’all will forgive me for the continuity error.

Nick is pacing outside the common room -- fuming really as strides back and forth. All he wants to do is study and be ready for finals. The common room is meant to be for studying -- not for, well, whatever the hell is going on in there. It’s bad enough the new kid has Blaine wrapped around his little finger - now he’s taking up Dalton’s precious space, too? Ug. He’s going to fail his biology course, and when he does, he’s going to blame Kurt Hummel. 

“Hey, Nick,” Jeff comes whizzing around the corner. “Great news -- Wes and David agreed to the caroling idea for next weekend. We’re gonna go downtown and sing to local businesses - possibly for tips. Maybe we’ll hit up the mall, too.” 

“What?” Nick snaps. “Who said anything about caroling?” Just what he really wants to do - stand out in the cold and sing Christmas songs to pissy customers and uptight business people. 

“Wow, well, someone’s being a Scrooge,” Jeff comments, back off a bit. “Actually, Kurt suggested it. He said it would be a great way to bring camaraderie and maybe make some extra spending money.” 

“Kurt,” Nick hisses through gritted teeth. “Of course, Kurt did. Patron Saint of being the most precious Warbler ever.” 

Jeff gives him an odd look. “Dude, chill.”

Nick will certainly not  _ chill _ . “First he has Blaine doing just about everything at his command. Do you remember when we sang at the Gap? It was humiliating. And it was all because Kurt wanted us to expand our horizons. Maybe I want to buy trendy, capri pants for men - well now I can’t because we’ve been banned.” 

“...I mean, there’s always Old Navy.” 

“Not the point,” Nick continues. “And now Wes and David are taking his council, too? Where does it end? First it’s Christmas Carols and the next thing you know, we’re the kick off for Columbus’s Ohio Gay Pride Parade.” 

“Dude, that would be kinda cool.” 

“It’s always Kurt this, and Kurt that,” Nick whines. “And Kurt is so fucking amazing that I just might as well be fucking him right now in the common room, causing the rest of us mere mortals to fail at biology because we have no place to study - and don’t say my dorm room, because I live with three other guys and it’s impossible to study there and it’s too cold to go to the library. And no I will not calm down because I am feeling indignant, Jeff.  _ Indignant _ .” 

Jeff just stares at him blankly. “Wait, what?” He brings his head down a little lower to whisper. “Are Blaine and Kurt... doing 'it' in the common room?” 

“Well, I-I mean…” Nick stutters. “Not literally, but in musical form.” 

Jeff scurries to the door to peer in. Nick leans against the door frame, watching as Kurt plays innocent during their torrid Christmas duet. Blaine’s hanging on to every note. It’s disgusting. Utterly disgusting. 

Jeff gives Nick an odd look. “They’re just… practicing.” 

Nick gives Jeff a side-long look. “Oh, my sweet, naïve Jeff. They’re flirting. They’re practically having eye sex.”

“I think you’re overthinking it.” 

“I think you need to be as angry as I am about it,” Nick argues back. “Kurt is some kind of evil mastermind, just waiting to stake his claim.” 

Jeff shakes his head. “I don’t know, Nick. Yesterday, Kurt shared half his lunch with me because the cafeteria ran out of meatballs, and you know how much I enjoy meatballs, and…” 

“Uuugggg,” Nick throws his arms in the air. He gives up. He looks to the common room where the song has ended and Kurt and Blaine are just staring at each other while sitting on the couch. Gross. So gross. 

Just then, a man with blond, curly hair approaches them. “Excuse me, can you tell me where to find Kurt Hummel.” 

“He even has an adult posse!” Nick shouts. “Fuck my life.” 

The man gives him a weirded out look as Jeff points to the common room. 

“Come on, Nick, let’s go to the cafeteria,” Jeff says, putting his arm around Nick’s shoulders. “I think they’ve got some fresh Christmas cookies. And then we’re going to talk about you going to see a therapist again.” 

Nick grumbles as he’s led away from the common room. 

  
  



	11. Azimio Adams (The Sue Sylvester Shuffle)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter has some inflammatory and derogatory speech in it.

The game is over. Azimio has changed, and has managed to get all of that shitty make-up off his face. He doesn’t even care about whatever the fuck they did on that field. They won. The electric buzz of that feeling still flows through him. He could scream with delight. They fucking won. 

He collects his stuff and is on his way out. He’s just gotta meet up with his dad - his dad’s gonna be so fucking proud - and then out to Matt’s party. He knows Maria’s gonna be there. He saw how she had been looking at him after the game. He’s getting some sweet, sweet pussy tonight. 

As he heads towards the exit of the school, Dave Karofsky meets up with him. Karofsky probably wants a ride to the party, which is fine, but he’ll have to get a new ride home. Cause Azimio has plans for tonight, plans that don’t include Karofsky being around. 

“Dude, can you believe how gay we were during half time?” Karofsky asks, as he opens the door to the parking lot. 

“Man, who cares, we won,” Azimio says, rolling his eyes. Maybe it’s time to get Karofsky some pussy, too. God knows he could use it. The dude has been so wound lately. 

“Yeah, but all that stuff was televised,” Karofsky argues. “It’s embarrassing.” 

“Dude, we were freaks. And it fucking worked. Shut about it and let’s get our party on.” Azimio shakes his head as they head out to his car. 

They’re nearly there, Azimio deep in thought about what will be underneath Maria’s Cheerio uniform when they pass by Finn. He’s not alone - the rest of his family is there, including that weird little eye-sore of a gay kid who thank god transferred so he doesn’t have to look at that anymore, and some tiny twerp in a prep school uniform. Probably gay, too, by the looks of him. They don’t say anything as they pass Finn - only nodding at him in acknowledgement as they pass by.

Karofsky’s gaze, however, seems to linger. 

“Looks like the fairy boys are back in town,” Karofsky grumbles as they make it to Azimio’s car.

“Eh, whatever,” Azimio unlocks the car. As long as Finn doesn’t bring them to the party, he doesn’t give a shit. Finn will probably be at a lame glee club celebration or some shit, so he doesn’t need to worry about it anyway. 

“I bet they’re already fucking each other,” Karofsky continues - his eyes fixated the Hummel kid and the prep school boy. They’re laughing with each other, the prep school boy with his hand on Hummel’s arm. “Fucking faggots.” 

“Man, why you got such a hard on for that Hummel kid?” Azimio snaps. He’s heard nothing about the Hummel kid for weeks now, and yeah, the kid is annoying, and totally bringing Finn’s rep down, but who fucking cares. They won the most important game of their lives. They’ll probably be scoring some fucking hot chicks tonight. What is Karofsky’s deal? 

“I don’t have a hard on for anyone,” Karofsky snarls back. “I just don’t want him near me - spreading his fairy dust all over me.” 

“You afraid of being gay or something?” 

“What, no.” 

“Is that it - you wanna get up on some dude?” Azimio taunts. Karofsky getting so worked up about it would be hilarious if it didn’t happen so often. 

“Fuck no.” 

“Then shut the fuck up about it, man. Just shut up and get the car,” Azimio says, sliding into the driver’s seat. “You’re always yapping about it. You’re almost as bad as a girl.” 

“Whatever.” Karofsky rolls his eyes and gets in on the passenger side. 

Azimio doesn’t think any more about it as they drive off.


	12. Jeremiah (Silly Love Songs)

Jeremiah shifts uneasily in his seat at the coffeeshop debating with himself whether or not he should even be here. Across from him is Blaine Anderson, one of the kids who had taken a liking to him when they met during the Winter Spectacular that year. He’s a sweet kid; upbeat and kind of cute. It weighs on Jeremiah’s mind that he is still, in fact, a kid. Not that Jeremiah is much older - being nineteen. But more so, Blaine is also gay. Which is fine, but Blaine is much more open about it than he is. 

The first time they went out for coffee, Jeremiah had made it abundantly clear that they were hanging out as friends. Blaine had plenty of questions - about college, about being older, about how he got the curls in his hair to stay put so easily, and Jeremiah had to admit that he liked a little of the hero worship Blaine had been bestowing on him. And Blaine being open enough about being gay made Jeremiah comfortable enough to admit that he is also gay.

But this afternoon feels different. It’s like Jeremiah had opened the floodgates letting Blaine know about his sexuality. Suddenly, the conversation is less about video games and local theater and more about politics and pride parades and who the best gay role models are. It’s admirable how passionate Blaine is to be entrenched in the culture. But Jeremiah is barely out to his closest friends. He hasn’t even told his mom yet. And this feels a bit much. 

“...so, Kurt says that he wants to incorporate gay iconography into his wardrobe, albeit subtly,” Blaine is saying. “Personally, I’m for anything rainbow, but like he always says, a little bit goes a long way. And he’s extremely fashionable. Not that I’m not fashionable, you know, when I’m not wearing the blazer, but he’s got this eye for it - it’s amazing.” 

“Who is Kurt again?” Jeremiah asks as he takes a slow sip of his peppermint mocha. It’s not that Jeremiah doesn’t know who Kurt is -- he’s obviously Blaine’s best friend -- who happens to be gay. Whom Blaine hasn’t stopped talking about since the conversation started. But Blaine becomes giddy in his seat every time the kid is brought up, and Jeremiah would much rather help Blaine with his obvious crush than go on about LGBT culture in America. 

“Oh, right, I didn’t tell you about him last time,” Blaine says. He wiggles a little bit, a proud grin coming to his lips. “He’s kind of amazing - we just met last fall. He transferred to Dalton because he was being bullied.” Blaine’s face falls a little as he thinks about it. “Were you ever bullied?” 

“No,” Jeremiah says quickly. He never gave anyone the opportunity - and god, he’d like to keep it that way. 

“Well, he’s been going through a rough time,” Blaine continues. “I just want to be there for him. Give him a positive experience -- not all gay men are bad, you know? Like - look at stereotypes on TV, how all gay men are damaged or sex-crazed or wildly perverted.” 

An older couple walk by - not that they hear the conversation but still - why does Blaine need to get so loud about these topics? 

“Anyway…” Jeremiah says, trying to steer the conversation again. “So… he’s just a friend?” 

“Oh, yeah, we’re just friends,” Blaine’s cheeks redden slightly. “But I mean, it’s cool. Like - we have a ton in common. We both want to go to New York after we graduate, we both want to perform, we both really understand why a skin care regimen at night is an important thing. It’s like finding someone who is like another half -- but I mean a platonic other half.” 

Jeremiah nods slowly. Oh, man, this kid is so in denial. It’s adorable. “Sounds like he’s really special to you.” 

“He is, you should really meet him,” Blaine insists - though Jeremiah isn’t sure that’s the greatest of ideas. He’s not even sure that he and Blaine should meet up again. “You’d love him - he’s wickedly funny and super smart and, I don’t know, I just feel better when I’m around him.” 

“That’s pretty profound, Blaine,” Jeremiah points out. 

“Yeah, it’s always wonderful when you meet someone special,” Blaine says. 

Blaine then reaches his hand out to grab onto Jeremiah’s. His grin is a little too broad. Oh, Blaine… Jeremiah slowly withdraws his hand. Nope, no third meet up. He really doesn’t want to give this kid any ideas. 

Blaine didn’t seem to catch on that this probably isn’t going the way he thinks it is -- and continues to be as upbeat and optimistic as ever. “So, did you hear about the possibility of Will and Grace being rebooted?” 

Jeremiah slumps back in his chair and checks the clock on the wall. Blaine is a good kid, but this is a lot. He’ll give it ten more minutes…


	13. Matt Rutherford (Comeback)

Matt Rutherford is shopping at the mall in Lima. He’s there for the weekend, visiting his grandparents, who are spoiling him like crazy. True, he still has a year to go before he graduates, but his grandma wants to make sure he’s set for college, and has taken him clothes and supply shopping so he’ll be all set. Normally, he isn't too fond of Grandma’s over-indulgence, but he’s getting a ton of free stuff, as well as a few new video games, so it’s worth it. 

He hasn’t been back to Lima too much since he and his family moved away at the end of last year. He’s fine with that. His dad being in the military, he’s used to picking up and finding a new place, plus his new school has been incredibly welcoming. He loves it there. He doesn’t hate Lima at all - but he wouldn’t go back if asked. 

He’s currently in The Gap, looking at pants near the front windows, when he sees someone he knows sitting out on one of the benches in the hallway. It’s Kurt Hummel -- dressed in an uncomfortable looking blue, prep-school jacket-thing. He’s sitting next to another guy with the same unfortunate jacket. Kurt’s got a shopping bag from Tattered Treasures on his lap and pulls out a very weird looking beige sweater that looks like the bottom half had been torn off. The other dude on the bench gives him a quizzical look - Matt’s glad he’s not the only one who finds Kurt Hummel’s wardrobe odd to say the least. 

Matt contemplates, for a moment, going out and saying hi. It’s not like he and Kurt were ever close, or even had a conversation longer than a few sentences, but Kurt at least had been cordial. Matt thinks back to his time in McKinley High’s glee club. Most of his memories are of Puck doing stupid shit, or Rachel Berry being very loud, or staring at the back of Mercedes Jones’s head. He also has a very vivid memory of the things Brittany Pierce can do with her tongue. But it’s funny, he can’t remember much about Kurt except snarky one-liners, strange clothes, and the fact that he probably is gay. 

The Kurt Hummel out in the hallway looks different somehow. Maybe it’s because he’s smiling, laughing, looking genuinely pleased. Matt doesn’t ever remember seeing Kurt that chill. And judging by the way the other guy keeps touching his arm and stares at him adoringly as they talk, Matt figures Kurt’s probably actually gay - and the dude is his boyfriend. Good for him. 

Matt decides against not going out to say hi. He’s not sure what he’d say anyway. They’d exchange pleasantries -- Matt would talk about his possible football scholarships and Kurt would probably go on about Beyonce or something. Small talk just isn’t that interesting to him, and he’s fine leaving Kurt in his own little world as he’s sure Kurt is leaving Matt to his. He continues shopping without thinking much else about it. 

Fifteen-ish minutes later, as Matt leaves with a few bags, he notices Kurt’s still on the bench, talking to the same guy. He hears a snippet of conversation. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to go in?” Kurt is saying to the other guy. “Pretty sure there are a few cute guys still employed just waiting for you to get them fired through song. You know, you’ve stumbled on a fantastic new way to get back at exes who have burned you.” 

“You are insane, you know that?” the other guy says fondly. 

Kurt throws his head back with laughter, a hearty (and high-pitched) cackle of delight. 

For a moment, Kurt turns his head, and sees Matt. Their eyes lock. Kurt’s still laughing, but takes a second to wave at him - maybe one of the friendliest actions Kurt’s ever shown to him. Matt waves back before Kurt re-engages in his conversation and Matt’s grandparents arrive taking his own attention away. 

Grandpa wants to go look at fishing gear, and with that Matt moves on with his life, leaving any thoughts of Kurt Hummel long behind.


	14. Rachel Berry (Blame It On The Alcohol)

They leave the theater arm in arm, each with a giddiness in their step. That had been a good movie. This had been a nice night. And as Rachel Berry snuggles into Blaine Anderson - who is admittedly, a little shorter than she prefers but still smells nicely and is a classy, old-fashioned type of guy that understands romance in a way that most Neanderthals her age can’t comprehend - she can’t help but think Love Story had been the perfect movie for them to see. What other than a dramatic, tear-jerker of a movie that understands the depth and pain true love must endure, and seeing it for the first time with her first time date, who might be a potential lover and legitimate duet partner? 

“Kurt would love this movie,” Blaine says, as they head out into the parking lot. “He’s a big softie, you know? We watched Moulin Rouge last week and he was bawling. Admittedly, I was bawling, too, I mean who can resist a downtrodden Ewan McGregor? Anyway - Kurt’s a huge romantic. It’s why we’re good friends, and I think maybe we should come back to see this together, because there aren’t really that many people who can appreciate how romantic it is? But I know he will.” 

“Oh, it is so romantic,” Rachel echoes. Blaine has brought up Kurt, like, fifteen times and she’s determined to ignore every last one mention of him. “Finn, on the other hand, doesn’t get romance. He thinks Die Hard is a romantic film. Die. Hard. And a great Christmas film. He does not understand good cinema.” 

“Well…” 

“And last year, when we started dating, he thought Scott Pilgrim vs The World was a good choice for a first date film,” Rachel continues, indignant. “The only thing that I really got out of that was that I imagined what it would be like if he had to fight off all my ex-boyfriends. Not that I have many, but it’s the concept that counts. And I wouldn’t worry, Blaine, I think your low center of gravity would count in your favor if Finn ever came after you.” 

“Wait, what…?” 

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about it,” Rachel says, off-handedly. “Really, I think it would be far more interesting and far less violent if you dueled over me in musical form.” 

“Okay…” 

They come to Blaine’s car, and they turn towards each other. She waits, and waits; and for a moment, she thinks that this is the moment - the empty parking lot, the cool breeze, the heroine with her dashing love-interest, just waiting for that first kiss - that first real kiss that could cement that this isn’t just a drunken fever dream, but that Blaine is an actual, potential partner for her. And as they stare into each other’s eyes, Rachel gleefully thinks about how grateful she is that Blaine had decided to explore his sexuality with her. Girls are a viable option, too, now, and this only has benefits for her. They could continue dating, of course, and they would become the it-couple at school, and, sure, some people might think they’re related because they have similar, ambitious attitudes and perfect, dark hair, but the truth is that they’re both very talented, and combined they would be able to outshine any competition at Nationals. Meanwhile, they could get married and have (vaguely) ethnic babies and take Broadway by storm, clearly, and Blaine could watch the children as she stars in her Tony-winning performance The Lonely Berry - a self-proclaimed (semi)-autobiographical musical starring her about her torrent childhood, and how having two gays dads has been both a blessing and a curse, and of course her dads would be played by Jewish-Neil Patrick Harris and Black-David Burtka and everyone would love her for her genius abilities; and of course Finn would come and completely be jealous of her new, classy life and her posh, dreamy husband and would rue the day he thought sleeping with Santana had been a good idea, or getting back together with Quinn, or dumping her because she made a stupid choice and it isn’t like Puck is a good kisser anyway, gross, anyway, he would see how he’d be missing on one of the greatest stars the world had ever known and… 

“Rachel?” Blaine’s looking at her confused. 

“Yes, sorry, just lost in my inner monologue.” 

“Oh, yeah, Kurt says that happens to him, too…” Blaine unlocks the car door, and opens it for her. 

Ah, well, no kiss tonight. Maybe he’s just being a gentleman and saving that for date two.


	15. The Ladies of Crawford Country Day (Sexy)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's style is a little different, cause I found it funny. I couldn't get a screencap of it - but if you stop Sexy at 13 minutes, 41 seconds, you'll see all eleven ladies in a row.

What the Ladies of Crawford Country Day are really thinking during the Dalton Academy Warblers’ performance of Animal:

Jessica: There are so many hot boys from Dalton Academy. I wonder how easy it would be to hook up with all of them?

Ashleigh: Jess is totally gonna hook up with, like, half of these guys. I wonder if she can throw me a bone. The round-face guy is super cute - I could totally hook up with him. If he’s not, like, gay or something. Oh, fuck, he’s probably gay.

Emily: I wonder how many of them are gay? I wonder how many of them have hooked up with each other? Oh my god, this is such a great inspiration for my next Sherlock/Watson High School AU I’m writing. My readers online are going to love the whole prep school thing set in London…

Samantha: Blaine Anderson can get it. He can get me any time he wants. We would be so hot together. Yeah, I would make him scream so hard. Bring it, Anderson. You sell that scream-worthy sex-appeal. Work it, baby, work it for me.

Sarah: I am so over this blatant and, frankly, misogynistic attempt to get validation. Of course girls are going to think you’re hot. That’s what the uniforms and perfectly coiffed hair is trying to sell. And those fake, schmoozy smiles? I’m not falling for the schtick, boys. We are better than this, ladies. We shouldn’t be here - we should be out protesting this disgusting display of macho-ism. And a foam machine? Really? Isn’t that a little overkill? God, they’re totally falling for it, aren’t they? Typical.

Taylor: I don’t really understand the foam machine and bouncy balls, but the bubbles are so much fun!

Hannah: Is anyone else catching the weird kid doing kicks and strange faces? Just me? I shouldn’t laugh. Okay, I’m laughing, but I’m laughing with him. I think. This is a comedy bit, right?

Amanda: Oh my god, he looked right at me, I think I might faint. I’m totally giving him my phone number. You’ll just have to pick me off the floor first. Oh, I wonder if I actually faint one of them will try giving me CPR, hmmm.

Liz: I’m pretty sure this is the abandoned warehouse where that guy was murdered with a machete. There haven’t been any ghost sightings here, right? I am so not being here after nightfall.

Kayla: This isn’t doing anything for me. Should I be concerned? Oh god, maybe I’m a lesbian.

Meghan: _...Oh, oh...I want some more...Oh, oh...What are you waiting for...What are you waiting for...Say goodbye to my heart tonight..._


	16. Trent Warbler (Original Song)

It’s a cold day in March. But it’s sunny, the flowers are in bloom again, and Dalton Academy is in good spirits. Trent is in good spirits, having a spring in his step as he heads down the hallway. He hasn’t a care in the world as his day is now finished up, and he can head back to his dorm to relax.

The Warblers are on their way to Regionals, they brought back chicken nuggets to the cafeteria again, and his parents might come to visit -- Trent is on very good terms with his parents. They’re bringing pictures of his cat, Fluffikins, and possibly, tickets to the revival of Oklahoma the Columbus Players are performing this season. All good things are headed his way.

He decides to take a shortcut through the lounge, whistling as he walks, thinking about how nice it will be to take the rest of the afternoon off. His homework is caught up, no test is in sight; perhaps Nick and Jeff will let him play that video game they keep talking about. But not that horrible first-person shooter with those awful guns that he always shoots too early and ends up exploding his teammates innards everywhere instead of the opponent.

He’s thinking about video games and explosions when he hears Blaine’s voice in one of the lounges. He thinks, perhaps, he should stop and say hi, but when he enters the room, he is shocked to see something he most definitely shouldn’t be seeing. Blaine is in the lounge with Kurt and they’re… they’re… Trent just does not have the right words. Oh god, they are making out! (his inner voice whispers). He isn’t really surprised, it’s not like Thad hadn’t started a betting pool as to when Blaine would announce that he and Kurt had been dating, and Nick has been insistent that Kurt had seduced Blaine on day one. But to see it here… live… Trent’s cheeks turn bright red as the room seems to warm up around him.

Trent can’t help but stare as Blaine stands over Kurt - their kiss almost pornographic with the high-pitched moaning sounds Kurt is making and the tongues. Oh god, he can see tongues. There are definitely tongues and this is just a lot of making-out and oh Blaine’s going for Kurt’s neck now, this is all moving so fast!

And oh god, oh god, oh god, he’s starting to feel things… down there. _Don’t pop up, don’t pop up, don’t pop up_ , he screams at his body; squeezing his eyes shut and focusing on that time one of his sister showed him a scab that had gotten infected and there had been puss oozing out of it but his brain changes the puss to semen and now all he can see are erect penises and the end of that one porno Nick made him watch that one time and…

Unintentionally, he lets out a little squeak. It’s loud enough that the noises Blaine and Kurt are making stop. He slowly opens his eyes to see them staring at him. His cheeks flush even harder. And to think he thought Dalton had been too cold today.

“Can we help you?” Kurt's voice is venomous. The look on his face is scary -- scarier than the time Trent spilt hot chocolate on Kurt’s new cashmere scarf, scarier than the time Trent had admitted he preferred Reba McEntire over Beyonce.

“I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt anything,” Trent stutters. His pulse is racing as Kurt bores holes into him with his glare. “I was cutting through because the cafeteria has chicken nuggets again, and Nick wants to show me this new video game and..”

“You’re fine, Trent,” Blaine says. He’s a lot calmer -- grinning like an idiot -- but he doesn’t seem to be mad at all. “Kurt and I were just… discussing our duet.”

“Oh, that’s great!” Trent exclaims, clapping his hands together. “I’ve got, like, a million ideas if you need any.”

Trent starts to move forward, but Kurt’s icy tone stops him in his tracks. “We’re singing Candles, by Hey, Monday - no discussion necessary.”

“Isn’t that a break-up song? Oh god, were you guys breaking up?”

Blaine looks at him confused. “No, we haven’t been -- did you guys think we’ve been together?”

“Oh yeah, there’s been a betting pool,” Trent says. “Didn’t you guys know about the betting pool? Wes started it as a joke, and then Jeff said he had some extra cash, and there’s this whole calendar thing going, and we actually thought you’ve been hooking up since November, but clearly, we were all wrong, unless we weren’t, I’m little confused by the timeline here -- oh but then Blaine was super into that guy from The Gap--”

“Trent,” Kurt bites. “I will break _you_ if you don’t let us get back to practicing.”

“Kurt…” Blaine lays a gentle hand on Kurt’s arm, which seems to release some of the tension. He gives an adoring look at Kurt before looking back to Trent. “Trent, we’re good for now. Thank you, though.”

Trent knows a dismissal when he hears one. “No problem! Just gonna keep cutting through…” He scurries past them, trying hard to avoid Kurt’s deadly gaze as he gets to the other side.

After he passes, once they’re behind him, he can hear Blaine giggle, and high-pitched voice, saying something breathless. He takes a quick look behind him and sees that it hasn’t taken them any time to find each other’s lips again. Well then. It is awfully bold of them to keep doing that where anyone can walk in. Is bold the right word?

Trent readjusts himself, and lets out a sigh as he continues on his way. At least he can collect on the pool - he did think it would happen before Regionals. That is -- if anyone will believe him. Still a good day, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really want some chicken nuggets :P


	17. Sandy Ryerson (Night of Neglect)

There are other things he could be doing tonight. His doll collection hasn’t been properly attended to in weeks. Geoff would gladly accompany him for another forty dollars a night. Or, there are a few college parties that he could stake out in hopes in broadening his new, budding (ha!) empire. However, being a drug lord just did not have the same enticing ring as League of Doom. He never could deny that wily Sue Sylvester, who is just man-ish enough that he’s contemplated seducing her. She does give off good B.D.E. That’s Big. Dick. Energy. And Sandy Ryerson enjoys big dicks.

So he’s here, in this disgusting cesspool of a school, on orders from one Sue Sylvester to take down _The Glee Club_. Nothing delights him more at the thought of destroying Will Schuester on his own turf -- a turf that once belonged to Sandy and that had been so recklessly torn away from him. But he would get his revenge - oh yes he would.

Sandy turns the corner into the hallway leading into the auditorium when he sees a couple of teenagers holding hands, heads close together as they’re giggling about something. Sandy recognizes one of them immediately as the gay kid with a terrible fashion sense -- like, god, is it a skirt? Is it shorts? Pick one and stop giving gay people everywhere a bad name.

“Halt!” Sandy yells at them. Startled, the boys jump apart. “The Pink Dagger has arrived.”

“The Pink--wha?” The one he recognizes says. “What do you want?”

“Oh, sassy, are we?” Sandy says, circling around them, like a hawk circling in on his prey. “Well, we’ll see how much sass you have after The Pink Dagger has poked you.”

“Kurt, who is this guy?” the other one -- the other deliciously attractive one -- says. Sandy can’t help but look him up and down. He looks like a delightful treat that Sandy would gladly gobble up. But he has to focus -- he has a mission, and if he gets caught with any more students, he’s really going to be banned from McKinley.

“A really sad, gross old man,” Kurt says, taking the cute one by the shoulders to lead him away. “We really should be moving on.”

Sandy takes a step to block their way. “Excuse me, did you say I was old?” he is offended to the highest degree. “How dare you? How dare you indeed? Do you know what tonight is?”

“Thursday?” Oh, so he’s handsome and cheeky - Sandy could work with that.

Sandy is, however, still indignant. “No. Tonight is the Night of Neglect. And no one. No. One. Has been neglected more than Sandy Ryerson, Aka The Pink Dagger. You sad glee clubbers, who will probably spend this evening belting out wretched versions of classics you don’t even understand, don’t know the meaning of neglect. You know, my mother once left me at an airport for six months when I was a baby? And when I was part of The Acafellas, I had the most precious voice and I was so cruelly kicked out of their group? And last month when the community center wanted to put on an all female version of Chicago and they wouldn’t even allow me to audition... The world itself has neglected all of my awe-inspiring talent.”

Kurt narrows his eyes, arms folded across his chest. “I think you’re missing the point, tonight is not for you…”

“I will not be upstaged by a couple of queers who probably don’t know what it’s like to have the soft firmness of another man up their ass, even if their voice sounds like something is permanently stuck up there,” Sandy shouts, his voice echoing in the empty hallway.

Kurt winces. He clenches his jaw, but says nothing.

The devilishly attractive one looks confused. “Um, we aren’t performing tonight.”

“We don’t even go here,” Kurt says, an angered look in his eyes. He really should learn how to chill. Maybe Sandy should try to sell him some weed - but damn, he left it in his car. “We’re here to support our friends. I really don’t know why you’re here, but you probably shouldn’t be.”

Sandy places his arms around their shoulders. “Well, in that case, maybe I can entice the two of you to join the Legion of Evil, and we can bring McKinley’s glee club down together. And maybe have a little fun afterwards.”

“Gross,” Kurt says. Both boys pull away from him immediately. Well, that’s not exactly the reaction he had expected. Why does this always happen to him? Shouldn’t gay people stick together? “C’mon, Blaine, let’s get out of here. I’d rather have another encounter with Karofsky than talk to this weirdo again.”

“Fools,” Sandy yells as they walk away. “You have no idea what you’re missing out on! The Pink Dagger will be avenged!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you feel gross? I feel gross.


	18. Wes and David (Born This Way)

“...and that is why I think it’s a good idea for the Warblers to help me serenade Kurt -- it is a good send off, and a way to show our solidarity and support for a now former member of the team.” 

Wes and David exchange knowing looks. It’s not unexpected that Blaine would be standing before them, again, asking to use the Warblers for his own personal agenda -- even if Blaine didn’t realize this is what he’s doing. It’s not like either of them mind all that much, either. After their loss at Regionals, any performance feels like a good performance. But as they’ve talked it over with one another on many occasions over the past year - their concern for Blaine has only grown. 

“Blaine,” Wes says, with an unintentional heaviness to his voice. Blaine almost looks panicked, biting his lip, brow furrowed with worry. Blaine’s usually so full of confidence, it’s almost strange to see him like this. “I--” he stops himself and smiles over at David. “We’re not against the concept of performing, even if it’s outside our normal parameters.” 

Blaine quickly jumps in before he can speak further. “If you’re concerned about the Warblers singing on the New Directions’ turf, I assure you any rivalries stop now that we’re no longer in competition, and I would like to think my newfound relationship with Kurt would only strengthen the concept that opposing show choirs could still remain on civilized terms with each other.” 

David cuts him off with a laugh. “No, we’re not worried about that. We’re concerned, well, more about you.” 

“What?” Blaine looks genuinely confused. 

“Over the past few months, you’ve claimed to be in love with a guy from The Gap, dated a girl, and then started this new relationship with Kurt,” Wes points out. “It feels a little....erratic.” 

“Uh, didn’t you guys have a betting pool as to whether or not Kurt and I would begin a relationship?” Blaine pushes back. 

“You do this, though,” Wes says, his face falling into concern. “You jump into these things with both feet, and before you know what you’ve gotten yourself into, you seem to not know how to get yourself out.” 

“We just care about you, man,” David adds. “And we like Kurt -- we really do. Even if it pains us to hear of his decision to return back to McKinley. He’s a good kid. But you are our friend, and you are the one we want to make sure is making good decisions and not using us to further your impromptu romantic whimsies.” 

Blaine seems to redden at the thought, but he doesn’t seem to be backing down. “I’m not sure I can express how much I care about Kurt. This doesn’t feel like that guy from The Gap or whatever experiment Rachel Berry was. He is… my whole world. And all that I want to do is make his life easier in any way that I can. I am not trying to use the Warblers to achieve my own end. I just… don’t know how to express how I feel and singing it just feels easier than the words I can’t articulate.” 

Wes and David exchange worried looks again. Maybe this does seem different from Blaine’s earlier romantic exploits. Maybe they have privately agreed that Kurt, while a different breed than anyone at Dalton, is an invigorating change for Blaine. But Blaine continually puts his heart out there time and time again. And they just don’t know Kurt well enough to make sure Blaine’s pure intentions wouldn’t be reciprocated at the same level. They would never want Blaine to be crushed… especially after the whole Gap debacle. 

“I--we don’t doubt your feelings, Blaine,” Wes says. “But have you considered -- Kurt is leaving for another school. If the roles were reversed, would he do the same for you?” 

Blaine looks down. “I am happier than I ever have been. I know he is, too. We don’t have to express that happiness in the same way for it to be true.” They both note the tiny hint of doubt creeping into Blaine’s words. 

“What song were you planning on doing?” David asks. 

“Keane’s Somewhere Only We Know.” 

David, amused, bites his lip, oh Blaine… 

“You really want a redo of Candles, don’t you?” Wes mutters. David kicks him from underneath the table. “I mean, it’s a rather heavy song.” 

“Well, this is a good-bye from...the Warblers, to Kurt,” Blaine says, collecting his confidence again. “And if you want to say something, say it big.” 

“Yes, but our relationship is ending on friendly terms, not melancholy ones,” Wes points out. 

“It’s how I feel,” Blaine goes inward again. “It’s more personal, I suppose. But it--it works. It works for what I’m trying to say.”

“And what is it that you’re trying to say?” Wes presses. 

Blaine doesn’t answer, only looks to the floor. Does he even know? They have their reservations, but neither Wes nor David want to be the ones to crush Blaine’s spirits. Besides, this is good for the Warblers -- to get out there and perform more. There aren’t many reasons not to do it. But still, they hope that Kurt Hummel understands that Blaine is more than a cute guy with a great voice. There’s something very special about Blaine, and they don’t want to see him held back by his own fantasies. 

Wes and David take another moment to confer with each other - the two of them being friends long enough to understand each other’s nonverbal cues. It’s been decided. “Well, okay then, Blaine, we’ll trust your judgment,” Wes says. 

“The Warblers will sing for Kurt Hummel at McKinley as a good-bye send off,” David adds. 

“Fantastic,” Blaine says, snapping automatically into his cheerful and energetic self. “So, I have a few ideas…”


	19. Sam Evans (Rumours)

Sam takes in a deep breath before he rings the doorbell. He had been picking up the deliveries that take him to the farthest parts of Lima in hopes that no one would notice him. But it’s Friday night, and they’re swamped, and of course, Matt being the lazy ass that he is, won’t go farther than a mile away, so he’s left delivering to pretty much everyone. Including an address he recognizes -- The Hummels. 

Kurt, of course, already knows about his situation -- just last week he had delivered to Dalton, but after everything that had been going on lately, everyone digging into his business, everyone making weird assumptions about him, he really doesn’t want to be near anyone from school. Not helping is the strange sense that he’s being followed. He rings the doorbell again, inspecting some bushes that might be moving as the door opens. 

“Sam!” Kurt cries as he opens the door. Kurt is… well, Kurt’s weirdly happy to see him. Or maybe just happy. He’s got the goofiest grin on his face, and Sam isn’t quite sure how to react. The short amount of time he did know Kurt before he left, he barely smiled. And now he’s, maybe, radiating? He’s also, uh, unkempt -- at least for Kurt. Sam doesn’t usually notice these things, but he does know that Kurt is particular about his hair and his wardrobe. Kurt’s hair is a mess and his shirt is half untucked. 

“Uh, hey, Kurt -- nice place,” Sam stammers as he sets the pizza on the end table. 

“Come in, don’t stand in the cold,” Kurt insists. “Thank god you are here. Oh my god, we are starving and I’m practically a beast when not fed properly. Now, where is that money Dad left us?” He’s leafing through some mail on the table as Sam quietly waits. 

“So… pretty crazy today in class, right?” Sam says - just trying to fill the uncomfortable silence. 

Kurt freezes to give a stone-cold stare. At first Sam thinks he’s done something wrong, but he quickly realizes that Kurt’s giving him his normal reaction glare. “You would think after all the drama the glee club has been through over the years, that they would learn that it doesn’t matter and we should really be focusing on the music. We’re going to New York -- and these people take one Sue Sylvester led newspaper cycle and everything is falling apart. I mean, who cares if they think we’re dating…” 

“Wait, uh, what?” Sam’s brain starts to reel. He knows people are thinking he and Quinn are getting back together. And they’re not. So not. Though he would be lying if he hadn’t thought about it. But Kurt? Really? How many times has he got to tell people he’s not gay before they believe him. 

“Oh, god, Rachel practically had my head about it between classes today,” Kurt continues, giving the biggest eye-roll. “And don’t worry - I deflected perfectly, no one knows about your secret -- my word is always the best. But please. Don’t get me wrong, Sam, you are adorable, but Blaine and I are ravishingly happy.” 

Sam’s brain is still processing the idea that Rachel thinks he’s dating Kurt. “Why does she think that?” 

“She recognized the jacket I gave you,” Kurt explains. “Which reminds me, do you need any other clothes?” 

Before Sam can answer, he sees Kurt’s boyfriend on the top of the stairs, pulling a white t-shirt over his head as he starts to descend the stairs. Oh, god… Did he interrupt… He gets the image of Kurt kissing his boyfriend in his head and it’s… weird. Well, no, it’s fine. Like - Kurt can kiss whoever he wants, even if it is a dude, he’s cool with that. Really, he is. But, like, it’s Kurt. Kissing people. And that just seems weird. Shit, why is he thinking about this?

“What’s taking you so long?” Blaine asks. He comes up right behind Kurt, and wraps his arms around Kurt’s waist, placing his chin on Kurt’s shoulder. 

Kurt leans back into him, clearly enjoying it. “I was telling Sam that Rachel thought he and I were dating, Kurt says, turning his head to face Blaine. 

“Well, that’s ridiculous.” 

“That’s what I said.” 

The two of them are doing that thing that couples do -- that Sam has seen his parents do -- where they talk to each other with just looks. He’s not sure what they’re saying but he feels like he’s intruding on something more… private. “You guys, I’m so sorry, I really didn’t mean to stop you from… whatever.” 

“What?” Kurt looks genuinely confused. 

Blaine grins, and speaks close into Kurt’s ear. “He thinks we were having sex.” 

“Oh,” Kurt flushes deeply, becoming flustered. “No, we were just, uh, hanging out. Blaine was just changing.” 

“Yeah, because you wanted me out of the blazer,” Blaine says, giving a kiss to Kurt’s cheek. 

“Blaine!” 

“You know, I really should go,” Sam says. Seeing the two of them together - he guess it does make sense. They are super into each other. But the room is getting a little warm, and Sam more than anything wants to not be there anymore. 

“You sure you don’t need any more of my clothes?” Kurt offers again. 

“No, I’m fine…” Sam says, backing to leave.

“C’mon, Kurt, I’m hungry,” Blaine says, biting at Kurt’s ear. 

Kurt all but melts in Blaine’s arms. “We should really feed you then.” 

“Well, then.” 

They’re doing that weird nonverbal thing with their eyes, which means it's Sam’s queue to get the hell outta there. 

They’re only looking at each other as Kurt grabs the pizza, and Blaine pulls him back to the stairs. “Money’s on the table, Sam,” he calls as the two of them race to the second floor, pizza box in hand. “See you on Monday.” 

Sam looks awkwardly around for a moment, grabs the two bills Kurt had unearthed on the table (score, does Kurt realize he gave, like, a one-hundred percent tip?), and leaves the house. As he walks back to his car, his brain mildly wonders if they’re going to eat first -- and then have sex, or the other way around. And people think he’s hooking up with Kurt. He’s barely made it to third base with a girl, while Kurt is obviously getting some now. Wild.


	20. Lauren Zizes (Prom Queen)

It’s not like Lauren’s devastated they lost. That hadn’t been the point of her campaign. Sure - it would have been nice to wear the crown, she would have rocked the crown. But she doesn’t need it. Truth be told, she’s gotten more entertainment out of the meltdowns of Santana Lopez and Quinn Fabray -- she should have brought up a bucket of popcorn to watch them self-destruct. It’s sad really - girls like that hold onto such stupid and meaningless popularity contests because they feel nothing else in their lives will ever matter as much. Meanwhile, Lauren still has her dignity, and the prospect of letting Puckerman have his way with her. Ha! As if she’d let Puckerman actually into her proverbial pants. 

She’s glad, however, all the Prom Queen hoopla is past them now -- she can just enjoy the dance for what is, a place to bust her moves and show off how amazing she looks in her dress. Plus, she will definitely be pulling a Brittany and dance with everyone else’s dates. 

She takes a break from all the dancing to grab some punch at the refreshments table. Rumor has it that Artie Abrams spiked it -- but no one has seen him in hours, and it doesn’t smell anything other than Strawberry Kool-Aide to her. Standing at the table near her is Blaine Anderson, watching morosely at Kurt Hummel, who has taken a moment to dance a slow one with Mercedes Jones. 

“You look like someone kicked your kitten,” Lauren comments as she comes up to him. Normally, she wouldn’t get too involved, but the guy just looks miserable, and she can’t help but meddle. 

“Someone did,” Blaine says, not taking his eyes away from Kurt. 

She gets it -- she does. This school is pathetically dumb, and while she doesn’t beleive the whole school was in on the joke, she knows the losers running the voting this year, and they’re a particular brand of stupidity. Why anyone would take them, or this whole thing, seriously is beyond her. “Yeah, well then your kitten told everyone to fuck off, which mad respect, man.” 

Blaine tries to hold back a proud smile. “Well, yeah, he is pretty amazing.” 

Lauren looks over to where Kurt’s dancing -- he seems to be in good spirits, grinning with Mercedes. Whatever forlorn thing is going on with Blaine has definitely not brought Kurt Hummel down. “You know this makes you, like, de facto king of the prom, right?” Blaine shrugs it off -- as if she’s being silly, but she’s not trying to cheer him up. That’s not her style. She’s just telling it like it is. “Forget that shithead Karofsky. Standing up there with him after what happened? You got balls man. And you don’t even go here.” 

“Thank you,” Blaine says, looking genuinely humbled, but no less happy. “I admire your confidence, I wish I had an ounce of it. I mean, I act like I have it, but some days…” 

“Pfft,” Lauren takes a sip of her drink. God, why is everyone so dramatic lately? “You're proud of your man, right? Be proud of yourself in the same way.” 

“I mean, I am,” Blaine says, he shuffles from side to side awkwardly. “I’m fine with who I am. It’s just -- I have this pit in the bottom of my stomach. Like, I can’t protect him if something bad happens.” 

Lauren does all she can not to laugh directly in his face. “Seriously? Protect him? I said you were prom king, not some knight in a fairy tale or something? Let me give you a little advice -- that queen,” she points directly at Kurt, “needs no saving. There are plenty of people who will want to beat you up in this world - no need to do it to yourself.” 

For the first time she gets a smile out of Blaine. Thank god, cause she’s not sure how long she could continue such a self-defeating attitude. She doesn’t even understand that. 

The music ends, and it’s not a second later when Kurt is bouncing over to Blaine, grabbing at his hands for him to join in. “You are my date tonight, and now that I’m queen, I no longer give a shit what they think, you’re dancing the rest of these with me.” He stops a second when he sees Lauren. “Hey, Lauren, the dress looks gorgeous on you, honey.” 

Lauren preens a little, giving a twirl. “Thank you -- and congrats on being the awesomest queen this school has ever known.” 

Kurt gives a little shimmy before leading Blaine back to the dance floor. 

Lauren finishes off her punch before heading to find Puck. There are still a couple of anti-prom crowns to be won.


	21. Terri (Schuester) Del Monico (Funeral)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Terri is probably more sentimental than she is in canon. Ah well.

Well. That’s done. She had thought (hoped) that her final conversation with Will would be a little more emotional. She had been, after all, saying good-bye not just to her first love, but to a very large chunk of her life. And, as she walks down McKinley High’s empty hallway, she lightly traces her fingers along the lockers, remembering a simpler time, when she had first been in love -- when Will doted on her, bringing her gifts to her locker, holding hands down the hallway, and quick make-out sessions in the bathroom. She doesn’t regret it, even if everything fell apart at the end. 

She just thought, maybe, saying good-bye would be harder than it had been. Everything is bittersweet, especially their (possibly) final conversation being in a hallway in the building where they had met. The weight of all that history hanging on her shoulders. Maybe that’s why she had clung so hard to keep him? Maybe it hadn’t been Will -- but the idea of what they had shared? And maybe that’s why she’s fine with moving to Miami, fine with leaving the only place she’s ever known. Some things just end, and change isn’t a bad thing -- at least that’s what her therapist tells her. 

She’s nearly to the end of the hallway, but she pauses as she turns the corner, hearing voices. It’s two young boys, heads together, near a row of lockers. They’re trying to be quiet as they talk, but since they are the only ones in the hallway, their voices carry. One of the boys she mildly recognizes as one of Will’s students. The other she doesn’t - and by the look of his school uniform, most likely is not a student here. Terri pushes against the wall, finding their conversation curiously fascinating. 

“Blaine, what are you doing here?” Will’s student says. “Are you insane? I had to make up an excuse to get out of class.” Despite the protests, the boy looks adoringly at the one in the school uniform. 

Terri smiles to herself, amused as she watches. She remembers days when she and Will would skip class, sometimes to have sex in her car. It hardly had been romantic, but at the time it had been thrilling. 

“I missed you, Kurt, I just had to see you,” the boy in the uniform - Blaine - says, cupping the other’s cheek. Kurt is almost bashful, looking around, making sure no one else is there. When they think there isn’t, the lace fingers together, just gazing into each other’s eyes. 

“While that is undoubtedly the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me, I cannot in good conscience let you jeopardize your schooling for me,” Kurt insists. 

“It’s only French class,” Blaine argues. “It’s fine.” He moves in closer. Terri can feel the heat of desire from down the hall - oooff, these boys want each other. She grins, remembering how hard it had been not to have Will whenever she wanted. God, how long had it been since they had wanted each other that way. Years? 

“Blaine, you speak terrible French,” Kurt says. He doesn’t back away, his eyes are fixed on Blaine. 

Blaine’s voice lowers, as he looks at Kurt’s lips. “Well, why don’t you teach me then.” 

“Blaine…” 

Oh, they must be virgins, Terri thinks, as she notices they try hard not to touch each other, though it’s obvious they want to. It’s sweet in, and odd Victorian way. 

Ah, to be young and in love. Does she miss it? Maybe? She misses the feeling of first loves, the thrill of discovering it for the first time. But she’s finding herself not missing Will. Their story is done, and she really is learning to be okay with that. 

The boys continue to stare at each other for another, long moment -- and Terri thinks, maybe, that they’ll actually kiss right there. But just as their lips begin to brush, Kurt jolts away, blushing furiously. 

“Go, god, I can’t when you’re around,” he says, pushing at Blaine. “I’ll see you when class is over, okay?” 

“Okay,” Blaine nods, grabbing onto Kurt’s hand and squeezing it as he begins to back away. 

Another second later, and the boys part, one shuffling back to class, as the other heads for the school doors, a giddy bounce in his step, eventually leaving Terri alone in the hallway once again. 

She lets out a heavy sigh. High school had been so long ago, but seeing those boys is a reminder that it hadn’t been all bad. And in fact, maybe a lot more of it had been better than she remembers. But her time here is done. Miami, cute Latino pool boys, and a whole new life awaits.


	22. Jesse St. James (New York)

Jesse is seated in the back of the plane, right over the wheels. It’s an excessively bumpy ride, made more embarrassing by the fact that he has to share it with a twelfth place glee club. Twelfth! He doesn’t even want to be seen with these people, let alone have to share a two hour plane ride. But he did agree to share directorship over the club with Mr. Schuester. He is, after all, nothing but professional. The second they land, however, he’s getting the hell out of Lima. It is too small for him and his talent. It’s not like they ever listened to him anyway.

A few rows up, he hears the laugh of Rachel Berry. Not helping himself, he leans a little to the left, looking through the spaces in the seats to see her playfully punching Finn Hudson in the arm. Gross. It’s bad enough that their momentary lapse of judgment led to an unwarranted and, frankly, disgusting act of passion, during a performance no less, but the fact that it has seemed to have carried over into their personal lives is childish. Finn is a passing fad, a youthful obsession to obtain because of a lifetime’s worth of societal pressure has told her he is the person she wants. Someday she’ll realize that Finn is nothing more than an awkward man-boy, and that Jesse is the one who will forever be the duet partner of her heart.

“God, can you be any more obvious?” Kurt Hummel is seated in the aisle seat next to him, not looking up from the Vogue magazine he is reading.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Jesse says, leaning back into his chair.

“Really?” Kurt asks, putting his magazine down as he raises an eyebrow. “So, you’re completely fine with the fact that Rachel and Finn kissed on stage, and look to be rekindling their classic on-again, off-again romance, while you’re sitting back here, not even an idle watcher in her life?”

Oh, Kurt thinks he’s going to out wit him. Cute. “That kiss -- cost you nationals. It was unprofessional, and honestly, I don’t know why the rest of you, other than the very intense, clearly lesbian Latina, aren’t more upset about it.”

Kurt rolls his eyes. “I’m sure it was less about the kiss, and more about the fact that we wrote those songs the night before. I’ll be the first to admit, probably not our best performance. But we still made it here, and it was still an amazing experience.”

“Interesting you should say that,” Jesse says, a smirk on his lips.

Kurt narrows his eyes. “What do you mean by that?”

“ _They_ made it here,” Jesse points out, much to Kurt’s distaste. “You, if I remember watching the Regionals performances carefully, were playing for another team - but, well, that’s kind of your thing, right?”

“Excuse me?”

“The Warblers are esteemed and, while maybe on the traditional side, rather admirable adversaries,” Jesse says. “But gathering from the video, and what Rachel has filled me in on, you guys decided that it would be a smart choice for you and your boyfriend to sing a duet together at a competition? No wonder you didn’t see a problem with Finn and Rachel’s inability to keep your sex lives out of the public eye, cause you decided to put it all on display as well. And how did that work out for you?”

Kurt’s face darkens. “You have _no_ idea…”

“Oh, but I do,” Jesse says, with a head tilt. “The song was bad. Overemotional sentimentality really has no place in competition. And the performance, which yes, I did watch, was out of tune, pitchy, and I’m not sure who decided on those harmonies, but clearly someone didn’t play to your strengths, or they would have known not to give you the lower part. It sounded like cats screeching at each other. Also, didn’t Rachel say that the two of you have just started your relationship? A novice idea to emotionally masturbate during a competition, I get that, but why did you choose a break up song?”

Kurt stares at him in a stony silence for a moment. “Fuck you, Jesse.”

“Hey, I’m just telling it like it is,” Jesse says. Why does everyone get mad at him when all he’s doing is being truthful. He is so misunderstood.

They remain silent the rest of the plane ride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> he he heee - I love Jesse
> 
> Made it through season 2, whoo!! Thanks for reading guys, 2/9ths of the way done! :D


	23. Breadstix Waitress Sandy (The Purple Piano Project)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to add her in somewhere, so this seemed a good of a place as any. Her name really is Sandy - I checked Glee Wiki.

It’s Friday night at Breadstix, and per usual, it’s ridiculously busy, but Sandy has worked at Breadstix for the past thirty year, so this is nothing new. She has got a few extra tables tonight since their new hire, Rick, came down with a cold, and hasn’t made it in all week, which means she not only gets the family reunion table of sixteen but the single mom with the three screaming children under ten and the three older men who can barely hear each other let alone her. And, on top of that, the first football game of the season has ended, and students from McKinley High have been filtering in all evening. She can stick it out a little while longer -- retirement is, after all, right around the corner. 

Her easiest table, by far, aside from one of her regulars - a CPA who spends every Friday evening alone crunching numbers over a plate of lasagna with extra cheese sauce - has been the two young gentlemen in the corner booth. With all the running around she’s been doing, she’s barely had time to interact with them - for better or worse. They’re seated rather close, more heavily steeped in their conversation than their meal, and have barely looked at her the few times she’s asked to refill their drinks. She’s fine not to have to small talk for once, which can be taxing on a busy night, and they have much better manners than most of the kids from McKinley - especially better those rude, young ladies who made a mess trying to shove an obscene amount of breadsticks into their purses. 

Sandy’s finishing up delivering a meal to a couple of (possibly stoned) college students when she notices one of the boys -- the one with the lighter hair, wearing a dark vest and a very colorful ascot around his neck, snapping his fingers for her attention. She signals she’ll be there in a moment. She’s usually annoyed when people pull that kind of thing on her, but the boys have been relatively kind, so she lets it slide. 

When she gets there, she notices that the boy calling her over is alone in the booth. “What can I do for you, hon? Would you like a to-go box?” she motions to their shared, and mostly uneaten, plate of spaghetti. 

“Oh, sure,” the boy with the ascot says. “Actually, I’d like to order a little dessert. Not for me, for my boyfriend. We’re not only celebrating six months together, but he’s transferred to McKinley to be with me.” The boy squirms happily in his seat. 

“Well, that’s sweet,” Sandy says, smiling kindly. She’s not sure about the whole transferring part, but her nephew had just come out to her last week, which has made her more aware of the whole LGTB movement that he explained to her. It’s not an easy world for these kids, it’s the least she can do to throw a little support their way. 

“Yeah, he’s amazing,” the boy flutters, looking far off in a dreamy way. “So, I would like to get him some of the Tiramisu, and if I could, a cup of the French Vanilla ice cream. Do you have any raspberry drizzle you could put on that?” 

“No, I’m afraid we aren’t that fancy,” Sandy says, putting a hand on her hip. “But I can offer you some fresh strawberries and chocolate if you’d like.” 

The boy licks his lips, thinking about it. “Yeah,” a wide grin climbing on his face. “I’d like that.” 

“No problem.” 

She’s headed to the kitchen when she’s stopped by the other boy -- the one with the gelled, dark hair and colorful bowtie. 

“Ma’am, I’m sorry to stop you but can I have a word?” he asks -- his dark eyes are wide and apologetic. 

“Sure,” she says. “What can I do for you, sweetie?” 

“First of all, I’d like to apologize for my boyfriend snapping for your attention,” he says. He looks over her shoulder back to the booth, a fond and lovelorn look on his face. “He’s just caught up in our anniversary, and my decision to transfer to his school, and sometimes he just forgets his manners.” 

“He’s fine,” she smiles again, endeared by his earnestness. “I’ve had much worse in my years.” 

The boy breathes a heavy sigh of relief. “Well, then, if it’s not too much trouble - can I order some dessert for him?” Sandy nods. “He really wants some of that dark chocolate cheesecake - but would it be too much trouble if you added a bit of caramel drizzle with a little whipped cream on top?” 

Sandy nearly laughs. Oh, these boys are a pair, aren’t they? “Of course, sweetheart.” 

“Oh, one more thing,” the boy hands over a small, black box. “Can you deliver this with it?”

She takes the box, a little unsure. “Well, okay.” 

“Oh, god, thank you,” the boy says, grinning ear to ear. “This means a lot, thank you, really.” He slips her over a twenty dollar bill. This boy is something else. 

“No problem,” Sandy says. 

She heads to the kitchen, taking a moment to look back as they boys are reunited. The boy with the ascot opens his arms, letting the second one cuddle in close. They look so in love, it’s incredibly sweet. 

She plays with the black box a moment, thinking that an engagement at their age is quite insane, no matter how much they believe in the magic of their high school romance. It’s not her place to be involved, she reminds herself, still, before she places their dessert orders, not being able to help herself, she takes a moment to open the black box and look. She nearly lets out an audible laugh when she finds not an engagement right, but a metal pin -- a rainbow colored bowtie you would put on a lapel. Well, aren’t they cutest?

She snaps the box closed, and returns to her work.


	24. Coach Beiste (I Am Unicorn)

Coach Beiste turns off the light in the office. Another full day over; tryouts for the musical are finished for the evening, another round of plays to show the kids tomorrow afternoon have been completed, and the election is going so well, it feels like it could continue on swimmingly without any adult supervision. It’s a good thing Beiste doesn’t have any classwork to deal with.

On the way out, Beiste notices Blaine Anderson standing in the darkened hallway looking up at a giant, colorful poster of Kurt Hummel riding a unicorn. His hands are on his hips, head tilted, as if the poster is a perplexing puzzle he has to figure out.

“S’up, pun’kin?” Beiste asks, startling him. “I thought you woulda been long gone by now.”

“Oh,” Blaine relaxes a little, though gives a little frown. “Kurt and I were supposed to meet after my audition, but he didn’t show up. He said Rachel was having some kind of NYADA audition emergency or something.”

There is more to the story, but Blaine isn’t saying anything. Beiste isn’t usually one to pry into the students’ affairs but it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to tell that something is weighing on Blaine’s mind. “So, why are you here staring at this poster? If you’re worried it might offend him, we can take it down. I promise it’s better than the first sketch Brittany tried to get okayed. That gal is creative but…”

“I love the poster, actually,” Blaine interjects, much to Beiste’s surprise. It’s hard to imagine anyone actually loving the thing. Blaine, however, begins to just let the words tumble out of his mouth. “Kurt _is_ special. He is this amazing unicorn whom the world doesn’t see because the world thinks he’s too abstract, too unusual, too… himself to really understand. But I get him, and I love him, and he deserves the world loving him, too but I can’t… I am not this. I want to be this. But I’m just not.”

It takes a moment for Beiste to catch on to what Blaine’s saying. “Blaine, you’re a special guy. Maybe you don’t have Kurt’s…” Beiste pauses to look up at the poster, “...unique qualities, but you’re an incredibly talented young man. Why do you think we wanted you to read for Tony tonight?”

“That’s just it,” Blaine says, throwing his hands up in the air. “Kurt would make a perfect Tony. He’d bring a fresh take on it. And he needs it to help him get into NYADA. Besides, I’m standard. I’m what’s expected. And I would be more than happy with taking a smaller role if it meant he got to shine.”

Beiste’s heart breaks just a little for the kid. “I get it, kiddo. Young love is like a wild bull that never really gets tamed and before you can get a handle on it, you end up flipped upside down with a couple of broken ribs.” Blaine gives a funny look. “Kurt is a special guy. And a talented one. And I have no doubt that someday he will have a chance to spread his wings… or show off his horn? I’ll be honest, I don’t know if I really understand the unicorn thing.”

Blaine gives a tiny laugh. “That’s okay.”

“But here’s the truth,” Beiste continues. “His audition was fantastic. No one’s saying that it wasn’t. But your audition was the one that made us sit up and feel things. We weren’t looking for someone with just raw talent -- we were looking for someone who has the ability to transform the part and make it their own. And you did that in your audition. And between you and me, I think you’re going to make Tony special all on your own. So, don’t sit out the race because you can fit into another man’s running shoes.”

Blaine lets out a tired little sigh. Poor kid looks like he has the weight of the world still on his shoulders. “I guess I don’t want to be in the way of what gets him to greatness. He can do the part if you let him...”

Beiste isn’t entirely sure how to respond to that thought, but gives a smile anyway. “Look, pun’kin, it’s a hard world out there. Each of you are going to have your own strengths and weaknesses to deal with, as well as your paths. Remember it’s best to be supportive of each other instead of trying to ride the tail of someone else’s prize horse, or I suppose in this case, unicorn. And he’s going to have to learn that, too.”

Blaine gives a genuine laugh. “Thanks, Coach Beiste.”

“Alright, get along now, you kids all have places to be,” Beiste says, shooing him down the hall. “And I have a whole chicken waiting for me at Breadstix.”

Blaine gives a quizzical look. “I didn’t know Italian cuisine included whole chickens. Huh.”


	25. Shane Tinsley (Asian F)

Shane Tinsley is a simple guy. He enjoys football, and Denzel Washington films, and those cute YouTube videos where the little puppies yelp at an animal much smaller such as a mouse or hamster. He also knows what he likes, and what he likes is Mercedes Jones. The girl has everything going on, she’s hot, she can sing, and he doesn’t get bored listening to her talk. So Shane does his best to be a King to her Queen. And part of that means splitting lunch table time between his friends on the football team and her friends in glee club. 

For the most part, it’s fine. Finn Hudson and Mike Chang are usually around to talk Ohio State recruitments or tips on how to win at Grand Theft Auto. He’s less sure, however, on days when tries to converse with some of Mercedes’ other friends -- like Tina, who ironically spends a lot of time complaining about how she wishes everyone would talk less about how she is Asian (she is usually the one who brings it up), or Rachel, who spends the entire conversation talking about herself (usually unprovoked, whether he’s listening or not), or any of the Cheerios (he once had a conversation with Brittany about being a special, chocolate unicorn that he still isn’t sure what that had been about). 

But he’s often most perplexed whenever he’s joined by Kurt Hummel and Blaine Anderson. And while they’re some of Mercedes’s closest friends, Shane often feels like he’s a definite outsider looking in on a world that he truly does not understand. And mostly, that’s fine. Unless he’s unwillingly dragged into it. 

“Truly, I think you’re crazy,” Kurt Hummel says, as he and Blaine plop their lunch trays in the spots across from him. Shane had been busy on his phone, but the dramatic force in which Kurt places down his tray, the metal silverware clanking, jolts Shane from his puppy video. Shane looks up for a moment, and around for Mercedes. He knows she’ll be a little late today, but suddenly he wishes she could intervene. 

“I am not crazy,” Blaine says, with as much indignation. “Let’s ask Shane -- Shane, do you think I’m crazy?” 

Shane looks at Blaine, who seems to be joking, because he has no idea what in the hell they’re talking about, but Shane isn’t sure he wants to answer that. Kurt’s currently wearing what looks like bondage gear along with some kind of weird fur thing tied to his hip? He’s also heard Kurt discuss the pros and cons to wearing a corset. Meanwhile, Blaine has on a bowtie and suspenders, which makes him look like his eighty-year-old great uncle, who sits on his porch and gets mad at ants. And he’s heard Blaine talk about how he wants to sing a medley of Disney Princess songs at one of their theme parks. Shane often thinks they’re both crazy. 

“Blaine,” Kurt cuts in. “I can’t believe you’re trying to convince me that Mercedes Jones -- THE Mercedes Jones shouldn’t be Maria.” 

Okay, now the conversation has grabbed Shane’s attention. 

“That is not at all what I said,” Blaine replies, rolling his eyes. “I said, while Mercedes Jones is a goddess among performers--” Blaine looks pointedly at Shane, as if to make sure they’re cool. “--I understand Rachel Berry being the viable other option. And it’s not the worst thing if they split time on the role.” 

Kurt, annoyed, bites into his pizza. “Shane, tell him he’s an idiot, and Mercedes would be the perfect Maria.” 

“Of course--”

Blaine doesn’t let him get in any words. “Shane, would you explain to Kurt, that if you have two talented quarterbacks, it’s not the worst thing to test them both out to see who would be a better starter when the playoffs start.” 

Wait, what? Blaine’s talking football now? What is happening? 

“Oh, don’t try to charm him to your side by talking about football,” Kurt says, on the end of Blaine’s words. 

“And don’t try to undermine his intelligence by cutting him out of the conversation.” 

“I am not doing that - Shane is perfectly capable of having an opinion.” 

“An opinion you know he already agrees with.” 

“What’s your point?” 

They then both turn their heads to stare at him. Shane isn’t entirely sure what to say, and instead, his jaw just drops a little. All he wants to do is talk about how wonderful Mercedes is, but he knows better than to try to get into whatever weird lovers’ quarrel this seems to be. 

Blaine breaks first. “Why don’t you just admit this is really about Tony.” 

Who’s Tony? 

“Of course not,” Kurt says, with a hard side-eye. “I said I would be fine if you had Tony.” 

Kurt is clearly not okay with whoever Tony is. 

“You know I would be fine if you had Tony.” Blaine says, turning to Kurt, his eyes fixated on him. 

Something about this conversation has changed, and it's beginning to get weird. 

Kurt relaxes. “I have already threatened the wrath of Sondheim if they deprived you of Tony.” 

Blaine’s gaze doesn’t waver off of Kurt. “So… then you’re really okay with Officer Krupke or something?” 

“Well, I suppose.” 

A grin grows on Blaine’s face. Okay, Shane gets that they’re talking about the musical, but he still feels incredibly uncomfortable with the way Blaine is now looking at Kurt. 

“You know he wears a uniform,” Blaine says, his voice getting lower. “And you know how much I love a man in a uniform.” 

“Of course I know,” Kurt replies, stubbornly stuck in his mood. “It took me a year to get you out of one.” 

“Not… fully out of one.” 

“Blaine!” 

“I mean I have offered…” 

The two of them take a long moment to stare at each other. 

Oh god… oh god, oh god, back to puppy videos. Shane really does not want that image in his head. This is why he avoids lunch with them. One minute they’re arguing and the next, Kurt is blushing into his Diet Coke. 

Where is Mercedes? Maybe he should go find her. He thinks maybe lunch is over, but somehow, he is inevitably dragged back into the conversation. 

“So, Shane, who are you voting for in the Student Body President Elections?” Kurt says, without a single comment on what just happened. “Please tell me it’s not for Brittany. I can give you twenty-five good reasons right now why she would be a disaster…”


	26. Rory Flanagan (Pot 'O Gold)

Rory Flanagan has begun to settle into life at McKinley High. He may no longer have a shot at Brittany Pierce (her exotic girlfriend is kind of scary) nor does he have that many friends outside of Finn Hudson (who said maybe if he played his cards right, he could get a spot on the football team -- which isn’t really football apparently, and that’s made things confusing), but glee club makes him feel welcome enough, and he still loves being in America. 

Glee is fun! Even if everyone seems to be unusually mad at each other all the time, and half the club has defected to a rival club in the same school! But singing always brings a smile to his face. It’s nice to have a home away from home. 

But something that has perplexed him since he had arrived is an unusual habit of Kurt Hummel. Before class starts, if he is not huddled together with Blaine Anderson, Rory finds him standing on one of the chairs, looking out the window. It’s such odd behavior, and no one seems to notice or really care that Kurt is always seemingly up to something. So, one slow Wednesday, he decides to join Kurt by looking out the window. 

“What are we looking for?” Rory asks, a bit of excitement in his eyes. 

Kurt raises an eyebrow, but does not look away. “Who said we were looking for something?” 

Rory frowns. “Oh, I just thought... Cause you’re always up here looking out the window.” 

Kurt is quiet for a moment. “Okay, I’ll tell you. But only if you promise not to say anything to anyone ever.” 

Oooh, a secret. How fun. “I swear, Kurt, or I’m on the first plane back to Ireland.” 

“Okay,” Kurt says, a smirk across his face. “So, one time, I was staring out the window and I thought I saw a ghost move through the bushes. It looked kind of like me, only younger, and it scared me to pieces. Or maybe I was imagining things. But every day I come back. Just to check.” 

“That is spooky,” Rory says, a chill running up his spine. He looks intently at the foliage lining the walkway. For a moment, he thinks he sees something move. It could be, however, just the wind. 

“Don’t believe anything he says,” Blaine Anderson climbs a chair to join them. It gives Rory a fright, and he nearly falls off the chair he’s standing on. Blaine makes sure he doesn’t fall. “Kurt has fed everyone that ridiculous story, and the only terrifying thing that has gone through the courtyard is Sue Sylvester.” 

“You don’t know, you weren’t there when it happened,” Kurt says, though his tone is more lighthearted than usual. 

“The courtyard isn’t haunted, Kurt.” 

“You don’t know that, Blaine.” 

“This is all very titillating,” Rory says, grinning. He feels like he’s really a part of something now. “It reminds me of all the ghost stories we told as kids around the campfire. We used to live near a barn that was haunted by a guy who was killed when his wife threw a potato at his head. The ghost was supposedly said to throw potatoes at trespassers of the barn. But it could have been Old Man O’Roarke not wanting kids on his farm.” 

Kurt and Blaine both nod quietly to Rory’s story. 

“You know, Kurt,” Rory says, as he looks him over. “If you were back home in Ireland, people might think you were my brother. In fact, you look more like my brother than my brother Seamus does. His hair is blonder.” 

Kurt immediately scoffs. “That’s ridiculous, I don’t look anything like you.” 

Blaine lets out a giggle. “No, I totally see it,” he says, despite Kurt’s glare. “Oh, Kurt, don’t act like you aren’t half Irish.” 

“Hummels are German,” Kurt says, holding up a finger to punctuate his point. “And I realize we have the whole Nazi thing to be ashamed of, but Germans were very influential in the invention of Western tonal music, which is the fundamental basis of everything we do in glee club. And we have Neuschwanstein Castle. Blaine, if we ever win the lotto, we’re getting married in that castle.” 

“Oh, of course, I’ll make sure to write that down,” Blaine says with a laugh. “But more to the point -- wasn’t your mom Irish?” 

“How do you know that?” Kurt asks, a bit shocked. 

Blaine gives a shrug. “Your dad was showing me an old yearbook. Her last name was Sullivan. And she had red hair.” 

“Sounds legit to me,” Rory agrees. 

“Seriously, you have got to stop having conversations with my dad when I’m not around,” Kurt says, rolling his eyes at Blaine.

“Well, maybe someone shouldn’t take so long getting ready that I end up having breakfast with your dad instead of you,” Blaine retorts. 

Rory, who is standing between them, wishes he had some popcorn to watch this delightful ping-pong act. He loves the drama this club brings. 

“You know when I text you in the morning you should add at least a good ten minutes onto the routine time,” Kurt says, clearly not for the first time. 

“Well, maybe you should pick me up for once.” 

“Do you really want me having conversations with _your_ dad in the morning?” 

Blaine waits a long time before responding. “...No.” 

“Hey guys, I think I see that ghost you were talking about,” Rory says suddenly, thinking he’s seeing something on the other side of the courtyard. Kurt and Blaine whip their heads towards the window. “Oh, maybe not. I think that’s just my reflection.” 

Kurt groans as he turns to get down from the chair. Blaine lets out a giggle, giving a playful nudge of his elbow to Rory, and gets down, too. 

Rory remains staring out the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of something he could write home about.


	27. Sebastian Smythe (The First Time)

Sebastian Smythe is bored. His plan is taking much longer to pull off than he originally intended; head to the bar by nine, have Blaine Anderson on his knees by ten, and by eleven, he’d be back home early enough to still troll the show choir chat blogs in his amusing quest to make future prima donnas cry, or at the very least, be able to get another dick pic to add to his collection. Instead, it’s been almost three hours, and having to hold onto the facade that he actually cares about either of them is getting tiring. 

The problem isn’t Blaine. If Sebastian is pushed to admit the truth, he’d say his only interest in Blaine is the (most-likely) delicious cock he hides underneath the grandpa clothes he insists on wearing, as well as the knowledge that by fucking the Warblers’ most powerful (ex-)member, he’d finally have the control over the group he craves. The bonus being that he might get to put his cock up that juicy ass, or at least get Blaine’s dreamy mouth to suck him off. The thought of Blaine’s eyes wide and wanton as he takes Sebastian’s cock delights him. Sebastian’s been sure from the first time they met that Blaine is definitely not getting the physical attention he probably desires. And who better to give it to Blaine than himself? 

No, if he is able to get Blaine alone, he is sure he could coax him into shedding the goody-two-shoes schoolboy image he insists on wearing. 

The problem is the frigid, bitch of a boyfriend. Kurt Hummel might as well have a leash around Blaine’s neck, he is so possessive over him. The thought of a threesome had crossed Sebastian’s mind, but he couldn’t tolerate doing anything with someone more prudish than a Jane Austen character. God, he is so fucking annoying. 

Blaine and Kurt had gone to the bathroom, leaving Sebastian at the bar alone. He has ordered another beer, not for himself, but for Blaine. Twice now he has been able to switch out Blaine’s bottles without noticing, and apparently, the more Blaine drinks, the looser he gets. It may take a little longer than expected, but if he can keep off Kurt, or get him to go home all together, Sebastian could easily slip in and make his move.

Sebastian smirks to himself, thinking again about all the things he would do to Blaine if he got him alone for just five minutes. As he’s waiting, he notices a very handsome college-aged guy down the bar who is looking in his direction. He gives a little wink, and well, maybe he has a plan b if he can’t pry Blaine out of Kurt’s delicate hands. He’s not sure how much more patience he has for his charade with Blaine and Kurt tonight. And College Guy is hot. Really fucking hot. College Guy also seems interested but before Sebastian can signal further, that dumb jock that used to go to McKinley sits between them. Asshole. 

“Meeting your next love connection?” Kurt is back, taking the seat next to Sebastian. His eyes are narrowed and suspicious. It must be so exhausting always trying to measure up to someone who is superior. 

Sebastian rolls his eyes. “I don’t know why you have such an obsession with love, Kurt. Why bother with messy emotions when you can get right to the good stuff.” Sebastian wiggles his eyebrows. “Sex.” 

“Yeah, I got that,” Kurt bites at him. 

“Where’s Blaine?” Sebastian asks. “Or is Mommy allowing him to be a real boy and go to the potty all by himself.” 

“Do you ever loosen up?” Sebastian asks casually. Kurt remains stoney faced at him. He’s got to admit, there’s something enjoyable about getting Kurt all riled up. “I’m guessing you haven’t enjoyed this evening one bit.” 

“I have,” Kurt replies, though it’s clearly forced. “This place is…” Kurt looks around, though doesn’t seem to have any words. Sebastian smirks. “Well, I enjoy being able to dance with my boyfriend. Who loves me.”

“Dancing?” Sebastian scoffs. “Is that what you were doing tonight? It seems more like you’ve been having weird, alien seizures or something.” 

Kurt gives a mocking laugh. “Well, at least I don’t look like a stiff metal pole that is being whacked into awkward angles.” 

Sebastian can at least appreciate Kurt’s wit, even if it’s the only bit of personality he has. It makes the game more fun. “At least my pole has some sex appeal. Do you even have a dick, Kurt? Is that why your voice is so high? Because you actually belong in some butch lesbian commune?” 

“Oh,” Kurt tilts his head viciously. “I hope you get so many STDs that they have to cut your dick off.” 

“Weak, Kurt,” Sebastian says, shaking his head. “And here I thought you’d be a great verbal rival. At least you have your words -- because you’ll never be my sexual rival.” 

Kurt completely stops the pretense, and unexpectedly, lays it all on the table. “Stop treating my boyfriend like a conquest.” Kurt’s all serious now. God, he’s so fucking boring and predictable. “You aren’t going to win.” 

“See, that’s where you’re wrong,” Sebastian shoots back. “When push comes to shove, I’ll be able to deliver what Blaine really needs. Do you really think you’re any comparison?” 

“Go fuck yourself, Sebastian. Oh wait, I doubt you can even pleasure yourself.” 

Blaine comes back then, all smiley and very tipsy, and falls into Kurt. “Are you guys getting along?” he asks, his words slurring together. 

“We’re having all the fun,” Sebastian says. 

“Tons.” 

Blaine wraps himself around Kurt, snuggling into him. “Kurt, you smell so good,” he says, a bit dreamily. Jesus, fuck, he’s such a lost cause. Sebastian can’t even fathom what Kurt’s appeal is. “We should dance really close so I can smell you more.” 

“Okay,” Kurt says, standing up, not letting go of Blaine in the process. “It’s probably time we get you home.” 

“Boys, the night is still early,” Sebastian insists. 

“Yeah, it’s still early, Kurt,” Blaine echoes. “And I haven’t finished holding you.” 

Kurt turns a slight shade of red. He tries to hide it, but Sebastian can tell what a poor sap he really is. “No, we’re going home now,” Kurt says again. 

Sebastian is annoyed, but he glances over to where College Guy is still sitting at the bar, and thinks maybe the night isn’t a total loss. 

“Do you need a ride, Sebastian?” Blaine offers. 

Sebastian shakes his head. “No, I’ll be fine. You guys go, wouldn’t want granny to miss her bedtime.” 

Blaine looks at him confused, but Kurt shoots him a very dark look as they head out. Oh, this isn’t over by a long shot, Sebastian thinks, as he eyes Kurt back. The night may be over, and Kurt may think he’s won, but Kurt doesn’t know how tenacious Sebastian can be.


	28. Shelby Corcoran (Mash-Off)

Shelby paces back and forth in the library. She’s stuck in here most of the day -- the librarian has been out with the flu for the past few days, and they just need someone to fill in for her. And, well, it’s not like she’s doing much teaching these days other than the one hour a day she spends practicing with the Trouble Tones. She likes the group, likes the girls, but she’s beginning to get antsy again. Is this really what she wants to be doing? Is Ohio really where she wants to be? 

It’s about Beth, she reminds herself. This is a good place for Beth. 

And she’s near Rachel -- not that they ever talk, but it feels nice. But she’s also near Quinn, who concerns her. And Sugar, who despite her dad’s generous compensations feels a little like a mob boss. And Puck. Fucking Puck. What is she even doing with Puck? It needs to stop. He’s a student. Legal. But this crossing of moral lines is beginning to eat at her. She taps her fingers against the arm she’s holding. 

Maybe she just needs to talk to someone -- like a friend. Will? Ha, yeah right… 

“Stop moving and let me see how bad it is.”

“Your hands are freezing.” 

“Because it’s November in Ohio, and I just got here.” 

“It’s fine it doesn’t even hurt.” 

Shelby recognizes the voices of Blaine Anderson and Kurt Hummel, who must have come in the back entrance to the library. She hadn’t seen them come in, but not many students used the library at a time, and it’s easy to hear any conversation that happens, even if it’s in hushed whispers. Shelby would normally let them be, Blaine especially is a frequent user of the library, but the tone of the conversation gives her some concern. And she is a teacher. Or at least an authority figure who could possibly help. 

“Kurt, this is terrible…” 

“That is why I’m wearing the ascot, Blaine.” 

“It’s not covering all of it, I…” 

Shelby turns the corner to see Kurt craning his neck back so Blaine can inspect the purplish bruise that stretches nearly the entire length. Blaine has peeled back Kurt’s gray, plaid ascot to investigate, and he’s right, unless Kurt spreads the ascot the entire length of his neck, it’s going to show. What worries her, though, is how Kurt got the bruise in the first place. 

“Oh, my god, Kurt!” she exclaims. She remembers hearing the stories about Kurt being bullied last year, and her first thought was that someone may have hurt him. “Are you okay?” 

The boys shoot apart, Blaine looking down and terribly guilty, while Kurt’s face brightens to a deep shade of red. 

“Yes, I’m fine,” Kurt says quickly. 

“He...we...I mean,” Blaine seems to be stumbling through his words. “I’m responsible.” 

“He didn’t hurt me,” Kurt quickly interjects. 

“Kurt, it looks like I beat you.” 

“You didn’t do anything I didn’t ask for.” 

It’s Blaine’s turn to blush an embarrassed red. 

Oh. _Oh._ Shelby puts a hand to her mouth to hold back a smirk. 

“He did not hurt me,” Kurt says, directly to Shelby. 

“Well, that’s good to hear,” Shelby says, biting her lip. “But in any case, Kurt, you do look pretty beat up. And as a teacher, I wouldn’t condone covering such things and going to proper authorities or health care experts…” 

“I promise I didn’t…” Blaine starts to say. 

“Blaine only makes me feel good,” Kurt quickly says over him. 

“Really?” 

“Yes, of course, Blaine…” 

Shelby holds her finger up so they’ll stop talking. She doesn’t need to hear anymore about it than she has to. “What I was going to say is that I may have some cover up in my purse that would help conceal that nasty bruise.” Both boys visibly relax, and with Kurt beginning to grin. “And in the future, maybe more turtlenecks for you, Kurt, and a little less enthusiasm from you, Blaine.” 

“Yes, Ms. Corcoran,” they both say, dutifully. 

She shakes her head fondly. Ah, teenagers.


	29. Santana Lopez (I Kissed a Girl)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This might be one of my personal favorites - enjoy!

Santana Lopez has had a better week. So what if she’s a lesbian? Who the fuck cares? No one is harassing Brittany for literally sleeping with the entire school, both boys and girls. Why isn’t this intervention for the both of them? She isn’t looking forward to glee club, and whatever asinine stunt Finn Hudson is going to try to pull. The damage has already been done, why make it worse? 

She’d be doing much better if Brittany were here right now. She’s in English class, one of the few classes they don’t take together, and instead of feeling the warmth and calming presence of her girlfriend beside her, she’s stuck listening to Lady Hummel and Berry going on and on and on about what the most romantic Baz Luhrmann movie is, and it’s truly sickening. 

“But don’t you see? With  _ Romeo & Juliet _ they kill themselves for each other,” Rachel is saying, her hand gripped in a fist to punctuate her point. “There is nothing,  _ nothing _ , more romantic than dying for the person you love in a tragic and passionate manner. I would like to think that if it came to it, Finn and I would meet our ends, clutching each other, and exclaiming just how much we love each other as we pass away in each other’s arms. Hopefully, it will be together when we are old and have lived the fullest life, and of course, I will have a funeral of a goddess, since I will be a stage legend by then. But if you are going to go out big, it should be together.” 

“That’s really twisted, Rachel,” Santana says, somewhat under her breath. “I swear, no one thinks about their own death more than you.” Both Rachel and Kurt eye her suspiciously; god, she loves getting under their skin, but Kurt moves on to his argument. 

“I don’t know how you can call yourself a true vocalist, and not be swayed by the haunting, yet also tragically romantic movie musical  _ Moulin Rouge _ ?” Kurt argues back. “There’s nothing more romantic than telling someone how much you love them through song.” 

Santana lets out a snort. “God, it didn’t take much for Anderson to hook you, did it?” 

Kurt shoots her a glare, but he continues. “Not that you would get it,  _ Santana _ , but Blaine and I have already agreed that we will be singing the seminal classic Come What May at our wedding, because there’s nothing more intimate than singing that song to someone you love.” 

“Well, you could take a steamy bubble-bath with them, I’d call that more intimate,” Santana snarks back, though she is telling the truth. There is nothing more intimate than running her fingers along Brittany's wet skin. 

Kurt stands his ground. “Singing Come What May to someone is more intimate than sex.” 

Wait, what? Did Lady Hummel just say sex? Even Rachel seems surprised by the statement. Santana throws her head back in a full on cackle. “Yeah, right Kurt, what do you know about sex?” 

Rachel’s eyes go wide, and she turns in her seat, busying herself with her English notes. Kurt turns his head, slightly, as if being too high and mighty to actually admit he gets down and dirty with teenage grandpa. 

“Kurt…” Santana coaxes. “Are you actually having sex? Or are the two of you lying in bed, fully clothed, holding each other’s hands, and singing pop covers, calling that sex? Because while that’s totally gay - it is not sex.” 

“Santana, you know, this isn’t really appropriate for class,” Rachel tries to interject, while failing at trying to organize her binder. “What goes on in the bedroom is no one’s business.” 

“Oh, stuff it Berry.” Santana rolls her eyes. Of course, she already knows that Finn and Rachel are probably have the most bland, missionary sex. Rachel has been nonverbally screaming ‘hey my boyfriend is porking me’ for weeks now. But Kurt -- Kurt’s pursed lips, and refusal to comment has her much more interested. “C’mon, Kurt… I’ve got to know now. You walk around with fifteen layers, though half of them are clearly bondage gear, so what does that say, while being the most prudish member of our club, and yet there’s a possibility that you might be having, dare I say, a little fun every once in a while? I have to admit, you have been less uptight lately. Usually, you have a stick up your ass, but now that it’s been replaced with a dick, it makes you more bearable.” 

“Oh my god,” Rachel gasps. 

Kurt tilts his head further into the air, not giving her anything (though Santana can fully see through it). 

“You be proud of getting that D, Kurt,” Santana says, swatting at him. “Though, really, the only thing worse than one dick during sex has got to be two.” 

“Well, I happen to disagree,” Kurt says, softly. 

Santana beams. “Of course you do. And yet, we didn’t have to spend an entire week discussing how it was okay for you to like boy parts.” Okay, Santana, simmer down the bitterness, Lady Hummel just became interesting. “So, I take that as a confirmation? You and Anderson have bumped uglies.” 

Kurt’s resolve is breaking, and it’s a fucking delight to watch. “Not that it’s any of your business, Santana…” his voice grows quieter. “Yes, Blaine and I are making love.” 

“Oh god, okay, now that’s the gayest thing you’ve ever said,” Santana says. 

“You know what, Santana, I think the gayest thing I’ll ever say to you that I enjoy a dick in my mouth, more than the ass,” Kurt says, wholly unexpectedly. 

Santana is stunned, literally stunned in her seat by that admission. Rachel’s draw drops a little, too. Kurt gives her a ‘are you satisfied’ look, before realizing what he just blurted out, and turns the most unique shade of fuschia she’s ever seen. This really might be the most interesting Kurt Hummel has ever been to her. She claps her hands together. “Yay!” 

Kurt buries his head in his hands. “I can’t believe I said that out loud.” 

“Thank you, Kurt, really,” Santana says. “You have made this week just a little more tolerable. I guess us gays really do have to stick together. Just one more question though -- does Anderson wear the bowties during sex, too?” 


	30. Harmony (Hold Onto 16)

30 : Harmony

“Outta my way,” Harmony snaps, as she pushes through her teammates lounging in the hallway. Livid and tense, she barges into the women’s bathroom to steal a moment for herself. No one seems to be in there so she goes straight to the sink, bracing herself on its side. 

Third? THIRD! How the _fuck_ did they come in third?? How is it possible that McKinley had been able to have two choirs? How is it that she slaved every day for her performance and had been, self admittedly, flawless. The NYADA prep group had showered with praise when they came to see the rehearsal. Third place is a fucking insult to her. Clearly her teammates aren’t able to give her the support she needs. Maybe she’ll just have to perform alone next year. 

She looks up into the mirror, holding back her emotions the best she can. She will not cry, she will not cry, she will not cry… Her make-up is perfection, and if she cries, it will be ruined. Life, as her mother had always told her, is still a performance. She should never show her flaws. 

Harmony takes a deep breath in, counts to five, and exhales; repeating a few more times to get her emotions under control. Never show them your pain… She looks into the mirror again, and curls a smile on her fabulous red lips. The judges can take that third place trophy and shove it up their asses. Next year will be a bloodbath. With a cackled laugh she leaves the bathroom. 

Just as she leaves the bathroom, two McKinley boys are exiting the other. She recognizes one of them immediately. “Why, Kurt Hummel, right?” She says, her voice pitched higher as she does her best to play nice. 

She thinks she hears him whisper ‘Gerber Baby’ to the other. Her smile falters slightly but does her best to ignore that god-awful nickname. “Harmony, right? Nice job up there.” Kurt Hummel lends out a hand for her to shake but she quietly dismisses it. 

“Yes, I am the growing starlet, aren’t I?” She continues to beam. “I just wanted to congratulate you on your win. And ask why I haven’t seen you at the NYADA mixers. Is it too much pressure? I hope you don’t find us too intimidating.” She grows amused as Kurt tenses. “I also noticed you didn’t even get a solo in McKinley’s performance tonight. Not everyone’s life is destined for New York, though I hear Columbus has a very nice musical theater community. Perhaps that is more your speed. 

Kurt gives her a dark look, and is about to speak, when the boy with him lays a gentle hand on his arm, and speaks first. “It was really a group effort tonight. We would not have won without Kurt,” he looks fondly at Kurt. “And if I could make a suggestion, maybe lack of group work is why you guys came in third.” 

She clenches her jaw, irritated at the suggestion, but notices just how classically handsome Kurt’s companion is, and doesn’t hesitate to jump on that. “Well, maybe you could teach me a little about group work,” she suggests, running a suggestive finger down his lapel. 

The boy scrunches his nose. “I don’t think my boyfriend would like that too much.” 

“His boyfriend would eat you alive,” Kurt says viciously, as he possessively loops an arm through the other boy’s. 

Oh, fuck it all. 

“Harmony, are you hitting on gay men again?” a snarky, little freshman from her group asks, doubling over in laughter. 

“Shut up, Travis,” she snarls, then abruptly pushes through Kurt and Blaine, her heels angrily clicking on the floor as she walks away.


	31. Don Barowski (Extraordinary Merry Christmas)

PBS Station Manager Don Barowski sits in his office with McKinley High student Artie Abrams. Artie has brought in a demo of the Christmas special he and the McKinley High Glee Club are preparing to do. Baroski couldn’t be happier. Baroski has always been a choir aficionado and after seeing the glee club in action, he hadn’t hesitated to call their director to see if they would be free for the open slot. Thank god they were! Not only is his butt saved with his higher-ups, but he gets to enjoy good Christmas music. What could possibly be better? 

Of course, he has asked Artie in to review his vision. While Barowski trusts handing the reins over to a high school student, his bosses aren’t as confident, and one stipulation they have is to go over Artie’s plan before they start setting up for the special. So, Artie has brought in a tape of their rehearsal to show off his vision. Barowski wiggles in his seat, hand clutching the remote excitedly as he pushes play. 

What he sees isn’t exactly what he expects, as the two kids on screen start in on a rendition of Let It Snow. The music is fine, but the style is very old-timey, which is a bit jarring as they are modern kids acting it out in their choir room. Barowski pushes pause, to look over to a thoughtful Artie. 

“You mind explaining it a bit better for me,” Barowski asks. “I’m not sure I’m getting it.” 

“That’s because it’s not staged right yet,” Artie assures him. “Think black and white, Judy Garland and those specials of the 60s. I’m wanting to bring it back old school. Really old school. A homage to the classic Christmas specials of an age long past.” 

Hey now, Barowski thinks. That was his childhood. Kids these days. “So, is one of these kids supposed to be Judy Garland?” he asks, using the remote to point at the TV screen. 

Artie lets out a laugh. “Oh, not exactly. That’s just Kurt hamming it up. He does do a fantastic Judy. I saw him do a really good Liza once, too.” He tilts his head thinking about it. 

“Oh, it’s two boys?” Barowski says. He has to admit, the one with the high voice, and strange, half-cut women’s sweater had confused him. “Is he one of those trangender folk? I mean, don’t get me wrong -- I am all in support of that. My nei-nephew, Alex, says that he is a transgender male. Delightful young person. I do what I can to support him.” 

Artie’s jaw drops slightly, his eyes bulging. Oh no, did he say something wrong? He tries to be up on the lingo, but admittedly, he’s not always good with it. 

“No,” Artie says slowly. 

“Oh, well, that one boy he looks, oh what’s the word? Androgynous. Not that I care. I was around in the 80s. Annie Lennox, Boy George, even David Bowie. They were all androgynous back then. But Don Barowski does not care what you look like, as long as you’re making good music,” Barowski gives a grin to Artie. 

Artie snorts into his hand. “Well, other than his voice and his _unique_ sense of style. Kurt definitely identifies as a man. Don’t worry, once we get the costumes on them, you’ll see that they’re most obviously a family friendly gay couple. And I think it’s ingenious of myself to cast a young, gay couple at the center of this production. Completely progressive.” 

Barowski furrows his brow in confusion. “But they said they were roommates.” 

“Well, yes, that’s the joke,” Artie explains. “Back in the 60s, being roommates was code for being gay.” 

“But we’re no longer in the 60s. Can’t they just be a couple?” Barowski asks. “PBS would not mind, and I think it sends a good message to our, shall I say, rather conservative audience that these kids are okay.” 

“Let’s just watch the tape,” Artie says, in a huff, grabbing the remote, pushing play. 

A couple of young girls join the two boys. “So, are they a lesbian couple who are roommates, too?” Barowski asks. 

“No,” Artie says sharply. 

“But an interracial lesbian couple would be even more progressive.” 

“The lesbians are later.” 

“Where does the Wookie fit in?”


End file.
